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latter of Temperament 



••• 


ny 

E. Iren/Eus 
Stevenson 


Author of 

“White 
Cockades ” 

“ Left to 
Themselves ” 

(“Philip and 
Gerald ”) 

“ Mrs. Dee’s 
Encore ” 

Etc. 



“from the painting by R. POTZELBERGFR, by permission of the BERLIN 

PHOTOGRAPHIC COMPANY, NEW YORK." 


AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION 
b-318 SIXTH AVENUE 


NEW YORK 






( 



A MATTER OF 
TEMPERAMENT 

(JANUS) 


BY 




EDWARD IRENiEUS STEVENSON 

V 


Author of 

“White Cockades,” 

“Left to Themselves 
(Philip and Gerald),” 

Q “Mrs. Dee’s Encore,” etc. 




NEW YORK 

AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION 

310-318 Sixth Avenue 




Copyright, 1896, 

AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION. 

Rights Reserved^ 


TO 

e. m. 

GRAFIN VON — 

WHOSE RIGHT TO A DEDICATION OF THE 
FOLLOWING PAGES 
THEIR AUTHOR FULLY RECOGNIZES 
DESPITE THE FLIGHT OF MANY YEARS. 




I 


I 


I 




Tpress IKolices of ^^^arias:, a JiorzV 


The New York Tribune. 

— A story of love and music, the hero being a young German 
composer, who is snared by a beautiful and unprincipled 
woman. The seduction of the victim is described with power 
and effect, and the catastrophe is led up to and narrated with 
skill and strong dramatic force. The story is interesting and 
well-written. 


7'own Topics* 

A book worth reading. The characters are well-drawn and 
consistently maintained throughout the work ; while the plot, 
although seemingly it is about to verge on the erotic, never 
enters into that condemned region. * * * The work as a 

whole has charm. 


The Christian Union ( The Outlook ) . 

* * * Mr. Stevenson’s book does not attempt to answer 

the question of art’s relation to morals by direct statement so 
much as by implication. It is true, there is a conversation in 
which that matter is broached and answered with brevity and 
directness. * * * But it is in the working out of the story 

that Mr. Stevenson attempts to answer the question by showing 
the moral instability of the artistic temperament, its sensitive- 
ness on the side of the imagination and the emotions, its lack of 
poise and self-control. It would be idle to say that the story 
does not cover the whole ground, since the writer, probably, 
has no intention of doing anything more than pursue dramatic- 
ally the working-out of certain temperaments. Artistically the 
author has succeeded in investing his story, brief as it is, with 
the atmosphere of the artistic temperament, and in tracing very 
clearly the inevitable moral evolution. It shows great clever- 
ness, and a moral purpose none the less distinct because it 
deals with an immoral situation. 


The Atlantic Monthly, 


* * * Our interest in American fiction is independent of 

time, yet there is always a quickening of the pulse when we are 
contemplating not the revival of past achievements, but 
the promise of the future which lies in some slight present 
performance. * * * We will not sketch the plot, which is 

one of character working through incident (rather than of char- 
acter revealing character) except to say that the leading person, 
a young musical genius, is awakened temporarily to a sense of 
the power which resides in a pure love, only to fall back and to 
have his life blackened by the insidious encroachment on his 
nature of the power of evil — resident in a false woman, and 
responded to by his one weakness. With the limitations of a 
sketch conceded, it is a strong piece of work. The mutations of 
Moritz Reisse’s nature are not only truthful — they are portrayed 
with naturalness and without too much recourse to comment by 
the author. * * * The depth of Nadine Von Gravenhorst’s 

intrigue is made very distinct ; she is thoroughly explained, 
and explained by the course of the story. We are especially 
pleased with the reserve which the author shows in dealing with 
the moral, more specifically the musical, parts of the book. We 
are accustomed to a moony treatment of music and musicians 
in fiction that it is a relief to find the subject used as an art, and 
not as a sentiment. * * ♦ 


The Mail and Express. 

* * * The author has handled a repulsive plot with force 

and delicacy, and his novel, is from a literary point of view, 
one of the most notable of recent issues in fiction. * * There 

is no straining for effect, yet the situations are intensely 
dramatic, and the closing scene of the domestic drama is 
thoroughly consistent and finely sustained. The character of 
Alexis is carefully studied, with a delicate sense of proportion, 
and the weakness of Moritz expresses itself naturally and logi- 
cally. * * * It is a novel of more than ordinary interest. 


Belford' s Magazine. 

* * * It is ttie work of a man of clear and delicate insight, 

fine attainments and much culture — a man who knows much of 
the literature and biography of music. * * * The descrip- 

tions throughoixt are powerfully written, and there are several 
dramatic passages which have rarely been equalled in recent 
fiction. The final interview between the injured husband and 
his guilty wife is a work of art, rounded and complete, with not 
a word or gesture too many or too few. This and several other 
portions of the book display real genius. * * *■ The char- 

acters are laid in with a few clever, but strong touches. We get 
a glimpse, among others, of the composer Meyerbeer, which 
however distasteful to lovers of Meyerbeer’s music is unques- 
tionably accurate. The story exhibits great care and solicitude 
— a book for grown men and women, a book to make a deep 
impression and to be long remembered. * * * 

The Musical Times ( London ). 

* * * In the volume before us, we have the spectacle of a 

powerfully written and engrossing romance. * * an impeach- 
ment of the morality of art in general and music in particular. 
* * * It abounds in strong situations, which are handled 

with success. The dialogue is bright and pointed, and the 
characters are clearly drawn. It is * * * a novel wholly 

free from the unwholesome excresences which are now-a-days 
paraded out of an alleged devotion to realism. * * 

The Independent. 

* * * A story of sustained and most painful interest. The 

scene of Mr. Stevenson’s book is a German city, the identity of 
which is concealed under an initial. The epoch is the middle of 
the present century, when Meyerbeer’s influence and success 
were making a deep impression on the composers of the school 
of Germany ; and Meyerbeer himself is encountered for a few 
moments in the beginning of the novel — the rehearsal of an 
opera “Prinx Max,” the work of a young composer “Moritz,” 
who may and may not be an altogether imaginary person. The 
book is a sketch, but more than sufficient. It is a terrible moral 
tragedy. 


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PREFACE. 


The present edition of “A Matter of Temperament” 
(originally published in 1889 under the title “Janus”) 
is from the plates of the first edition. Only a limited 
revision of them has proved practicable. The author 
would gladly re-write the sketch from beginning to 
end : but such kindness to its literary technique 
must be postponed. The novelette was put together 
hurriedly — in course of a few weeks — many years 
ago ; partially written in another language, finally 
completed in English. The kindness of its early re- 
ception in the United States and in England has been 
a matter of much pleasure to the author. In the 
present edition it has been possible to do little more 
than correct in the plates errors in actual proofreading, 
and to remedy sundry omissions of the manuscript. 

E. I. S. 


New York City, September, 1896. 




“The difficulty veith the question is that, like a statue of 
Janus, it presents two faces, in a peculiarly uncompromising man- 
ner — an agreeable theory and a painful fact ; too few people who 
staud at one angle and study and descant, will shift their ground 
and study the other aspect .’' — Alexia von Gravenhorst. 


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JANTJS 


CHAPTEE I. 

She hath directed 
How I shall take her from her father’s house.” 

Merchant of Venice,, 

On a damp May night, in the year 185 — , a pair of dark 
horses, attached to a modest close carriage, waited, with 
much stamping of hoofs and champing of bits, in a nar- 
row and unpaved street in a suburb of Milan. The coach- 
man seemed half out of humor at the delay in his mas- 
ter’s reappearance, and muttered sundry Italian oaths. The 
street might almost have been called a lane, for it was 
bordered with trees and led from a quiet avenue directly 
toward one of the rural roads. There were no lamps in it 
so far out as where the carriage had halted. Stationed in 
the densest shadow of the trees, the vehicle’s own lamps 
were unlighted. One of the distant clocks nearer the 
centre of the city had just struck eleven. 

The carriage almost touched, on its right, a brick wall. 
This wall was pierced by a gate. The gate let one into a 
deep garden, that daylight showed to be more or less weeds 
and ruin, crack-nosed Italian misconceptions of gods and 
goddesses, fountains that trickled instead of spouting, and 
battered rococo arbors. Following the path suggested by 


8 


JANUS. 


the gate, and hurrying across the garden, one came to the 
Villa Fioraja itself, long since rented from season to sea- 
son, and sheltering Jew or Greek, British tourist or Paris- 
ian bankrupt, as chance and the real-estate agents might 
have it. The distance of the villa from the centre of the 
capital kept it empty much of the year. Just at present 
it was leased for six months to an Austrian, Count von 
Lillienherg. Upon this murky spring night it loomed up 
at the far end of the long garden, with five or six of its 
windows twinkling some definition of its extent. 

That same afternoon, its lessee. Count von Lillienherg, 
had gone to Turin to remain some days. His had been a 
busy life and full of coincidences. But the occasion of this 
journey presented a peculiarly important coincidence, in that 
this very evening had been chosen hy his only daughter, 
Hadine von Lillienherg, whose beauty and accomplish 
ments were pretty generally talked about in certain social 
circles of the town, for her elopement and marriage with a 
young man who was just then conspicuously before the ar- 
tistic public of Milan — Moritz Beisse, of Munich, musician 
and composer. It was Herr Beisse’s carriage which 
waited the romantic pair of young people, and it was Beisse 
himself who at this moment was hurrying as fast as he could, 
tumbling over loose tiles and broken roots, toward the east 
wing of the villa, where Hadine von Lillienberg’s maid 
would give his impatient feet entrance. 

About these three persons — Count Wilhelm von Lil- 
lienberg, Hadine, and Moritz Beisse — there had been more 
gossip in Milan for the past two months than on any other 
topic. Fortunately, the depth and precipitancy of the love 
affair between the young people, so far, had not been part of 
the commentary. Gossip, however, is scarcely the word 
to describe the eclat attending the advent of Beisse — 


JANUS. 


9 


a young Bavarian operatic writer, whose success, youth, 
physical attractions, and friendship with Meyerbeer at 
once opened to him the most exclusive doors in the place, 
and favored him with such further flatteries as his present 
fortunes invited. Of the young man’s birth little was 
known, or indeed asked, by his admirers — in fact, nothing 
was asserted of him except that he was the son of an 
obscure Munich musician, that he worked his way up into 
German popularity with some clever operettas, then won 
success with a grand opera, and, lastly, came to Milan on 
the invitation of a manager to superintend the production 
of a new work, which, like himself, was already vastly 
admired in the Italian city. His airs were whistled every- 
where. He himself was made one of the drawing-room 
darlings of the season. So much for Moritz Beisse. 

With the von Lillienbergs it was quite another matter. 
For some twenty years Count Wilhelm had been an un- 
failing subject of scandal to certain capitals and summer- 
resorts of the Continent. It was Milan’s turn with him 
now. This turn was especially piquant in that, for the 
first time in his wanderings. Count von Lillienberg’s daugh- 
ter accompanied her father. She had lived with some 
Northern relatives since quitting her convent school. 
Count von Lillienberg looked upwards of fifty. He was 
tall, grizzled, and dignified in his manners. His family 
connections were undoubtedly high. His social good name 
and means of subsistence were growing worse and worse each 
year. He had long since played at ducks and drakes with 
a very tolerable fortune ; and that his skill at cards had a 
good deal to do with his keeping up any establishment, or 
his migratory way of life, many unlucky persons had ruefully 
found out. Milan was now just about making up its 
mind that he was a chevalier dHndustrie^ and little by little 


10 


JANUS. 


gathering his past records for shocked examination. The 
final touch was added in the report that Count Wilhelm 
was now making the rounds of such places as might still 
know so little of his checkered career as to give him a 
social foothold, with the determination of marrying his 
aforesaid daughter to the richest parti practicable. Of 
the girl herself — she was little more than one — not an un- 
kind whisper was current. She was singularly beautiful. 
Her face already showed a character full of self-control and 
of sorrowful experience. She sang admirably. Those wh/» 
did not like her, pitied her. It was the old story of 
gelica in her bonds awaiting the Ore. 

Her Ruggiero sped amid the tangled shrubbery with 
his mind in a tumult of anxiety and delight. I am earlier 
than she expects me,” he thought ; perhaps I shall have 
to wait down in that chilly little porch for Lieschen. No 
— she wdll provide for that. Let me see, where did I put 
those railway-tickets ? In the other pocket ? Good ! here they 
;are ; and the express starts at one-thirty for Genoa. She 
will surely be ready by this time, early as I am ; and that fat 
little priest” — he had arranged for the marriage ceremony 
to take place a few moments after midnight in an obscure 
little church not far from the Villa Fioraja — will not be 
kept long from his bed. Ah, my honored father-in-law 
that is to be ! ” he went on to himself, with a fiash of dis- 
dain in his fine eyes, thrown away upon the darkness of the 
garden ; so you forbade me your threshold, did you ? How 
little you suspected my audacity or Nadine’s courage. You 
may be wise enough to win at your card-table, or clever 
enough to dupe society for a while, but you were not pru- 
dent enough to command your daughter’s going with you 
when you left Milan to - day. Heavens, what a scandal 
there will be !” He smiled at his last reflection, then 


JANUS, 


11 


darted under a roofless arbor and around a weed-grown 
crescent. Murmuring half aloud, “ To Paradise — to Para- 
dise/’ with a laugh at his lover-like folly, he ran up a 
flight of broken steps, and, without knocking, awaited some 
preconcerted next move. Prom the road one of the horses 
neighed. The young man’s heart beat fast. As he peered 
from his coign of concealment, running his eye over the 
obscurities of the old garden and the rear fagade of the 
villa, a light step began to come pit-pat down the stair- 
case to the door. Moritz turned about, pressed closely 
against the jamb, and listened. The descending person 
gained the last of the flight within, and there paused on the 
other side of the door, as if awaiting some direct signal 
from him. He tapped lightly. A whisper filtered its way 
through the crack. Yes, yes, it is I, Lieschen,” he sai<l, 
in chafing impatience ; ^Mon’t be so long. Everything is 
all right.” He trembled. Did any one else overhear ? 
How slow Lieschen was ! 

Lieschen, a tall, raw-boned young woman, Nadine 
von Lillienberg’s devoted handmaid, pulled the door ajar. 
Moritz slipped in and saw that she had brought a candle 
down with her. This she had prudently deposited on the 
stair, and against the light her angular figure stood out in 
silhouette. 

For goodness’ sake, Lieschen,” he exclaimed, what 
did you bring that candle for ? Surely t know my way 
in the dark, and you ought to also! I suppose that 
Komtess Nadine is nearly prepared — I will run up 
ahead of you. Oh, by-the-by,’’’ he added, still in a hur- 
ried whisper, I may not have so good a chance again, 
Lieschen, to thank you for your help to us both, and to 
give you this. It will be luckier before than after the mai> 
riage, you know.” He slipped some money into her hand, 


12 


JANUS. 


and would have set his foot on the lowest stair. But the 
alert Lieschen intercepted his further progress. 

If you please, Herr Keisse, you are not to go up.’’ Be- 
fore the astonished young lover could more than repeat 
her words and give her a glance of bewilderment, she con- 
tinued, I brought the candle down so that you might 
read this letter and save trouble.” 

“ Letter ! What letter ? A letter from — He 
snatched it out of her careful hand. “ From Komtess Na-. 
dine ? Where is she ? A letter ! ” He broke the seal. 
“ She is not ill ? ” 

If you please, Herr E-eisse, she has gone to Turin with 
her father.” 

Moritz Eeisse’s jaw fell, and his black eyes opened in 
such consternation that Lieschen, who was suspicious of 
the whole race of young men, in all walks of life, drew 
back. 

A thousand unlovely thoughts coursed through Eeisse’s 
head during the second or so that he stood there fumbling 
the letter that Lieschen had given him — in his alarm at her 
last announcement. All had been discovered? Oh, cursed 
spite of fate! Just on the eve of their happiness, von 
Lillienberg’s dull eye must have widely opened, and poor 
Nadine have been borne off Turinward, a weeping captive I 
Moritz felt like a prince whose fairy castle comes tumbling 
about his ears. 

But when he tore open the letter and, leaning down to 
the dripping candle, began to read it, so curious an express 
sion stole, witli each line, over the young man’s face, that 
Lieschen remarked it in the feeble and fluttering light. 
She watched him. He turned back — re-read — again re- 
read — ^dashed on into the second page — then seemed again 
to dissect the meaning, line by line. Once or twice he 


JANUS. 


13 


1/ooked up from the communication, as if its contents made 
him forget where he stood and what he did. He had grown 
pale when he finally turned to Lieschen, and seemed to 
control a violent agitation by so visible an effort that 
the grim servant exclaimed, Herr Je ! under her 
breath. 

Reisse was wordless for a few seconds. His lips trem- 
bled so that he could not speak. “ Herr Je ! ” repeated 
Lieschen, still standing bolt upright with her lean arms 
folded. 

“ Ho you know what is in this ?” he asked, fiercely. 

“I — I — that is, I suppose it is a note bidding Herr 
Reisse— good-night,” stammered Lieschen. 

He gave a bitter laugh. 

^^Yes, it is just that,” he replied. note bidding 

Herr Reisse — good-night ! Did you — but- what folly to 
ask 2 /ow/” he said, angrily, as to himself. He crumpled 
the letter tightly in his fingers. 

One moment,” he added, sharply. I will go upstairs 
after all. I have a reason. It is for the last time. Go be- 
fore, with the light.” 

Lieschen was too nervous now to refuse. She piloted 
the young man upward. They crossed a corridor and 
then another; after which Moritz entered a large apart- 
ment, furnished rather sparsely but handsomely enough. 
A fire smouldered on the hearth. The room was half 
lighted, and the bed-chamber beyond, not more so. He 
could see everywhere signs of elaborate and hurried pack- 
ing, doors opened, a litter of ribbons and discarded stuffs, 
French-heeled boots and worn slippers, passJes gowns, and 
two or three broken trunk-trays. All was still, except a 
little sputter from the summer fire. 

Moritz stood motionless in the centre of the apartmentj, 


14 


JANUS. 


looking now on this, now on that side, at the disordered 
floor. 

Whose trunks are those ? he asked, curtly, pointing. 

“ Mine, Herr E-eisse,’’ replied Lieschen. I am to de- 
spatch the rest of the things to-morrow, and join Komtess- 
Nadine at Turin the day after. You did not know, then,” 
she went on, with well-meant hypocrisy, “ of Komtess. 
Nadine’s plan of going ? ” 

“ No ! ” the young man returned, in a storm ily-inflected 
monosyllable. Lieschen looked like a frightened grenadier. 
Eeisse gave a parting glance at the familiar furniture and 
littered floor, and, after it, seemed to recover a certain, 
portion of needed self-control. 

Thank jmu, Lieschen,” he said, more kindly ; I will 
go down now. I am glad I came up — very glad too, of 
this letter.” He walked to the grate and put it to the 
embers and saw it burnt. Good-night — and good-bye, as 
you say you are going to Turin, too. I have no message 
for Komtess Nadine.” 

He hurriedly left the room. Lieschen had hardly time 
to light him down the stairs. She heard him exclaim 
something as he opened the door at the foot and darted 
out into the night. The tone rang in her ears for days. 
Then she returned to the deserted chambers and, first of 
all, to the fireplace, where she proceeded to examine, on 
her knees, the relics of the enigmatical letter. But it was 
a pile of ashes. What a pity!” she murmured; 
should have so liked to read it. All she told me was that 
she had of a sudden come to the conclusion that the wed- 
ding could not take place at present. H’m ! she is a 
strange girl ! I am glad that she has given me the green 
silk dressing-gown.” 

Meanwhile Moritz Eeisse had walked stumblingly back 
to his carriage. The coachman looked sharply, and noticed 


JANUS. 


15 


that he was alone. To the church, signore ? ’’ he asked. 

To my own rooms,” the bewildered lover said, angrily. 

After that, you may go to the chapel and tell Father Cirilo 
that there will be no wedding to-night. Give him this.” 
He handed the servant money and leaped into the car- 
riage, adding, as he slammed the door, Tell Father Cirilo 
I will see him to-morrow afternoon — to explain.” 

The horses set out at a quick trot toward the centre of 
the capital. 


16 


JANUS. 


CHAPTER IL 

** Thl actors are come hither my lord.” 

Hamlet. 

On a warm Sunday evening in May, a few years after 
the event to which the preceding chapter has been devoted, 
a knot of chorus-singers, players in the orchestra, and 

minor actors of the B Hof theater loitered about the stage 

door of that resort, grumbling over the special rehearsal on 
which the management had insisted. To the extreme dis- 
taste of the capital the Hoftheater had been closed for 
months, because of, first, a fire, and second, a death in the 
JDucal connection. But the announcement of a vigorous 
spring season, to be inaugurated with a new comic opera by 
Moritz Reisse, now arrived at the height of popularity in 
Germany, delighted the town. The advancement of art, 
and especially music, in his capital was a solicitude to His 

Highness, the Duke, and under his fostering care, B 

had become noised abroad as quite a theatrical and musical 
centre. 

Pacing arm-in-arm slowly up and down the outside of 
the chatting groups (who were awaiting the advent of the 
manager and composer, after having themselves been duly 
recorded as present) were two young girls, unattended by 
any male cavalier, and apparently absorbed in one of those 
conversations which seem to be a great satisfaction in 
female friendships. 

The elder of the two, Elsa Ehlert, was slender and dark- 
haired, and of a grave and thoughtful way of speech. Side- 
by-side with the plump, blond, and vivacious personality 


JANUS. 


IT 


of her companion, Bertha Grauschimmel, of the aitos, the 
contrast between them was marked. A glance, too, at Elsa 
Ehlert’s serious young face would have hinted that just at 
this particular moment only so much of Bertha’s rattle 
was heard as might call forth a ‘‘ yes” or ^^no” in the 
right place, and that the real, innermost Elsa was walking 
distant paths alone. Long years afterward one who had 
known Eraulein Ehlert from her youth up remarked that 
he always applied to her the lines : 

Thou hearest my voice. . . 

But, with mine, others that I cannot catch. 

This was true of her all her famous life. 

So, you see, dear Elsa,” Bertha was saying, with 
abundant temper in her blue eyes, I have just fought, 
fought, fought with him — well — ever since ! So provoking! 
Otto can be as nice as anyone if he likes 1 Now, shall I 
answer his letter at once, or wait?” 

There was no reply. Bertha glanced around in sudden 
suspicion. “Ido declare!” she exclaimed, in aggriev- 
ment, “ you haven’t heard a word I’ve been telling you ! 
Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Elsa, how can you tease 
a body so?” And the sprightly little Bertha administered 
a sharp pinch to her guilty confidante. 

Elsa stammered out, “ I beg your pardon, dear Bertha. 
Indeed, I did hear almost everything, and it is very inter- 
esting, I’m sure. I couldn’t help my thoughts straying 
just that second or two. Please go on !” 

“ Please go on, indeed !” retorted Bertha, saucily. 
“Not I, truly ! Look here, Elsa; when that sober, solemn 
lover of yours, Johann Steins, comes to sit of an evening 
with you, do you go wandering out of yourself a thousand 
miles or so ? I hope he likes it, if you do I ” 


18 


JANUS. 


“ I’m afraid I do wander sometimes/’ Elsa responded, 
frankly, recalling vague complaints of her patient betrothed. 

Then tell me, for pity’s sake, what you fall to thinking 
about ? ” queried Bertha, pressing her friend’s arm more 
closely, as they turned from the limit of their promenade. 

Not about Steins, I’m sure ? ” 

Elsa smiled — a sober, peculiar little smile, as if she felt 
the difficulty of answering Bertha to that thoughtless 
young woman’s real information. No,” she said, gravely, 
‘^not at such times about Johann — fond as I am of him. 
There are so many things to come and go through one’s 
head all the day long. Life seems such a strange thing to 
me, dear; more wonderful each week. I feel somehow as if 
all of mine that is worth living were yet to come. Besides, 
there is my music. ^ Prinz Max ’ runs in my mind over and 
over again.” 

Well, if Zkept hearing tunes in my ears when there 
wasn’t so much as a fiddle going in the street, I should cer- 
tainly think my stomach was out of ordero I’m sure I sing 
in the Hoftheater almost as much because I like singing 
as for the little money to be got by it ; but directly I get in- 
side the dressing-room again, catch me thinking twice about 
what we’ve been shouting upstairs I Oh, Elsa, you are a 
queer, a very queer girl, and no mistake ! I believe that I 
don’t half understand you yet. But” — and Bertha slipped 
her arm out from Elsa’s that she might give the grave girl’s 
waist an affectionate little squeeze — ^‘you are certainly 
the dearest and best girl, too, that ever drew breath ! Do 
you hear that ? ” 

Before Elsa could answer, a severe but kindly old voice 
from behind interrupted : “ Fraulein Ehlert is assuredly 
one of the best girls in the world ; as for the queerness, 
that I don’t know about.” 


JANUS. 


19 


The two friends turned. Tliey recognized the stooping 
figure and whitened hair of old Anton Delie, for years the 
first ’cellist of the Hoftheater. The kindly old musician 
held out a hand to each, paternally. “Well, my children,” 
he said, “ how do you both relish losing your holiday even- 
ings again ? They are later, too, in getting to work than 
they ought to be.” 

“ Do you know. Papa Delie,” Elsa answered, raising her 
calm eyes to his, “I believe I had rather singthis music by 
Herr Reisse than do anything else.” 

“ I’ll wager that she cares a deal more for her singing, 
Papa Delie, than she does for anything else — even Herr 
Steins,” quickly interrupted the mischievous Bertha, witli 
whom Elsa’s betrothal was a sore point. 

“ Perhaps I do,” returned Elsa, seriously, meeting a 
look of warm sympathy in the old violoncellist’s eyes — • 
“perhaps I ought to. But, oh. Papa Delie,” she continued, 
abruptly, as Bertha Grauschimmel spied a beckoning 
acquaintance and darted away to argue some pressing 
question with her, “ I so wanted to ask you since the last 
rehearsal exactly what you think about young Ilerr Reisse’s 
music. This ^ Prinz Max ’ puzzles me terribly.” She 
laughed gently. 

“ Certainly not to sing it ? There is hardly a page of 
the choruses that should trouble you, my child.” 

“ Oh no, not that,” she answered, hesitatingly, “ but— - 
but it is something about the music itself when I hear iE 
I don’t know that I can tell you just what it always seems 
to want, to me. It does want — somethin^/. It is all beau- 
tiful; but I can’t help thinking when we are working at it 
that Herr Reisse does not really do himself justice in it. 
Do you ? It never sounds to me like the kind of music 
that is sincere music — what a man writes because he can 


JANUS. 


20 

not help writing it. ^Prinz Max’ sounds to me, dear 
Papa Pelie, like an opera that is made because a person 
tries to make it, not one that makes itself in Herr Keisse’s 
mind first, and because he can’t keep it out of him.” 

She stopped, looking intently into the old man’s face, 
with heightened color and shining eyes. Bertha would not 
have complained now that her friend was in any divided 
state of being. 

To Delie, who had taught Elsa from her childhood, him- 
self a musician of singularly educated perceptions, in spite 
of his present modest position in his art, there was always 
u wonderful charm in watching how this girl’s fresh in- 
tuitions asserted themselves. Her insight into the gen- 
uinely great, her unerring divination of the false or flip- 
pant, delighted him. The young singer’s mind seemed to 
him a balance in which she unconsciously weighed every 
day and hour what concerned her beloved music. The 
scale invariably fell true. 

He looked affectionately at her, and nodded his white 
head. Your heart is a sound tutor, my dear,” he replied. 

Herr Reisse has, I think, yet to meet his inspiration. In 
this work there is much that shows what he will do ; let 
him meet it. Then, be it a love, a grief, a hate, a joy, 
why then, when this inspiration does come to him, it will 
be like dipping his pen in fire — mark my words.” 

‘^Perhaps he has lost this — inspiration,” Elsa said, 
gravely. 

Pound then, or first greeted, ^Prinz Max’ will be 
dross compared with what Herr ])Ioritz Beisse will give to 
the world — in days when ErauleinElsa Ehlert is walking 
the great stages of Europe as the famous singer of hei 
time.” 

The girl blushed and shook her head. Delib involuit* 


JANUS. 


21 


tarily thought of her : so young, so lofty in her aspirations 
so talented, and as yet so obscure. “ And therefore hid- 
den from all the evil that may be lying in wait for such a 
spirit ; from pain that is its penalty for so keenly feeling,” 
he added, in his heart. The girl stood tranquilly, absorbed 
in her own imaginings. The loving old man reached for- 
■ward and took her slender hand in his own and kissed it. 
“ God give to thee forever a joyful heart as well as a great 
name ! ” he said, almost with a sigh. He released her 
fingers and turned to Bertha Grauschimmel, who ran up to 
them laughing over some victory which her sharp tongue- 
had just achieved. 

It was lucky that Bertha’s appearance made a slight in- 
terruption. Otherwise an unseen listener to the last half 
of the conversation between Delie and Elsa Ehlert might 
have failed in making good his concealed escape. The 
passage to the stage was dark enough to hide any person 
who stood within its narrow doorway, immediately outside 
of which Elsa and Delie had paused. A young man, 
straight-backed and vigorous, of some twenty-seven years, 
clad in a trimly fitting black suit, slipped away into the 
theatre as fast as he could, with a mortified expression on 
his face, and knocking over a broom and an empty box as 
he vanished. It was Moritz Reisse, a trifie older than dur- 
ing that season in Milan, lie had entered the Iloftheater 
by the front, and was hurrying out, with his usual light 
step, to beg the orchestra to follow him at once, when the 
sound of his own name from Elsa Ehlert’s and Delie’s lips 
ehecked him into motionless eavesdropping. 

He had no time to indulge in any reflections, for the 
long-expected manager, Rodel (who was kindly doing duty 
as chorus-master owing to the desertion of that function- 
ary) and Fraulein Topp, the leading soprano, came breath- 


22 


JANUS. 


lessly up the street. The entire group began hurrying 
with them into the theatre, where Moritz had already 
seated himself in his conductor’s chair. The stage was lit 
with a few flaring gas jets. A half-dozen carpenters were 
adjusting some indispensable pieces of the first scene of 

Prinz Max.” Beyond loomed up cavernously the black 
abyss of the empty auditorium. 

Clear the stage there — all ! ” the indefatigable Stage- 
manager Urach was proclaiming. Courtiers, you stand 
more to the left — that’s it ! Ladies, fall back a little to 
the right — not in such close knots ! That’s better.” 

Moritz’s eye had already singled out his untutored critic^ 
Elsa Ehlert, as she stood among the sopranos, to whom in- 
deed her rich voice and certain attack were a sheet-anchor 
in dangerous moments. He had marked Elsa before, as 
some one more or less detached from the Gretchens and 
Katchens about her, although he individualized her only 
as a young woman of obviously better breeding than her 
companions, and for some mysterious reason a protegee of 
Joachim Bodel. But now, in spite of the pique to his* 
vanity her words had offered, he studied anew the passion- 
less sweetness of her profile as she bent over a music-page- 
a friend held up to her. He said to himself, with sudden 
appreciativeness, My faith, you may take a great deal 
upon yourself, my fair young lady ! But you are surpris- 
ingly beautiful, as likely you know.” 

Herr Beisse, Herr Beisse ! All right — we are ready 
when you are! ” came Stage-manager Urach’s sharp voice,, 
cutting short Moritz’s cogitations. ^^Eraulein Topp, 
please be good enough to recollect that you and Herr Sil- 
bersteim must not lean so affectionately on the rail of that 
summer-house in Act One ; if jmu do, down you will both go, 
I warn you.” (Here a suppressed titter among the chorus. 


JANUS. 


23 


as Frauleia Topp’s weight was generous.) ^^Now, ladies 
and gentlemen,” cried Moritz, looking about him for the 
last time, be ready to begin the instant the introduction 
ends;” and thereupon the first chords of the spirited little 
prelude of ^‘Prinz Max” awoke the echoes of the Hof- 
theater. The firm hand and suj)ple wrist of the conductor 
flashed the white baton in quick curves above Moritz’s 
shoulder and head. Violin and oboe and horn were prompt 
to catch his warning glance and come in manfully with the 
beat. The charm of Peisse’s features as he directed was 
■doubled by that look that one is sometimes lucky enough 
to catch on the face of some orchestra leader to-day — the 
expression of the artist absorbed as to every fibre in un- 
folding his message of art. 

But the message did not go smoothly. As the finale of the 
act drew near, vulgarly speaking, a neck-and-neck race be- 
gan between principals, chorus, and orchestra. Presently 
everything came to a stand-still, with Rodel lecturing the 
tenors, and Peisse admonishing Praulein Topp and Herr 
Silbersteirn. Oh dear, oh dear, what shall we do by 
Sunday, if you can’t remember better than this what 
you’re told ? ” rose Podel’s pathetic complaint, as he 
d.arted up and down among the derelict. It is allegretto^ 
•aot allegro / You just go galloping along like a lot of 
post-horses ! How, once again ! Go ahead, Herr Peisse ! ” 

Just as the tricky passage was being again given forth 
lustily and smoothly enough to lure the Heimdall-eared 
Podel into an approving nod, Elsa Ehlert noticed a door 
opening and shutting at the distant end of the auditorium. A 
gas-burner sparkled out. By its aid, a couple of gentlemen 
cautiously effected a descent toward the stage, and with the 
last note of the finale, came forth from the darkness, clap- 
ping their hands loudly. One seemed an elderly man, of 


24 


ja"' us. 


small stature, wrapped in a fur-lined surtout and of an un- 
mistakably Israelitish cast of features. The other was a 
strikingly handsome blond man of thirty, with a bright, 
good-humored face; immediately recognized by Elsa as 
Count Alexis von Gravenhorst, the son of a wealthy and 

titled banker of B , lately deceased. Count Alexis 

was joint owner of the Hoftheater with the Duke, and a 
great friend also of Moritz Beisse. In fact, he had sug- 
gested to Ebdel, Moritz’s advent to B . 

But great was Elsa Ehlert’s surprise to see the deference 
with which both Joachim Kodel and Herr Reisse now 
saluted the young banker’s Jewish friend. Low were the 
bows and cordial the greetings. She understood the mys- 
tery when she heard affable Rodel saying — “ Arranged 
with the greatest difficulty, I assure you. My chorus- 
master has run away ; and you know, my most respected 
Herr Meyerbeer — ” The little Jew, with the hook nose 
and withered little hands, that looked as if fingering velvet 
or satin in a shop might be their normal employment, was 
Mejmrbeer — Meyerbeer, then reigning as the king of lyric 
music in Italy and Germany, as his friend Rossini had 
reigned just before him. Elsa Ehlert looked at the unim- 
posing, indeed commonplace figure, and studied the im- 
passive round face almost with incredulity — certainly in 
disappointment. Had this man put upon music-paper such 
an episode as the Benediction of the Daggers ? — or from 
behind that calm forehead had there come any such duet 
as /‘Oh, ciel! ou courez vous ? ” — and all the power and 
passion of that famous fourth act of “ The Huguenots ” ? 

“ Well, and what have you been about now ? ” the great- 
little man was presently saying to Reisse, still his pet, if 
not his pupil. “What I just heard was not bad, not at 
all bad — although I think jmu might gain a bit in effect 


JANUS. 


25 

in one place, I forget just where. Lot me see your score 
a moment.’^ 

Moritz obediently reached down the bulky manuscript. 
His former instructor began skimming through its pages, 
pausing here and there and occasionally taking the liberty 
of making a correction with his ready pencil. He kept up a 
characteristic running commentary all the while. ‘^So! — ■ 
that is excellent — I would not have given the clarionets the 
melod}’ there — Lord ! ray child, you haven’t any business 
with such doings as this / — your effect is spoiled there ; and 
do, for goodness’ sake, recollect that effect in music is abso- 
lutely everything — what does the second horn say to that 
third measure ? — nobod}'- but a man of naj teaching would 
ever have brought in the drums in that w’ay, you clever- 
head ! ” — and so on, until Count von Gravenhorst came up 
to cut short a monologue, under which, wdth its pencil 
obligato, and in the presence of his orchestra, Moritz was 
waxing nervous enough. 

Come, my dear Herr Meyerbeer, we must be off ! ” 
von Gravenhorst exclaimed, heartil3^ Auf loiederseherij 
Reisse ; and make your plans for coming up to Graven- 
horst Lodge the first moment that all this musical work 
will permit jmu. My wife is looking forward with great 
pleasure to your acquaintance, and we propose to keep 
you with us all summer.” 

^^You will be here in time for the first notes on Sunday 
night ? ” asked Moritz, smilingly. I do hope that noth- 
ing will go wrong between now and then. Maj’’ I look for 
you ? ” 

Certainly,” returned Alexis von Gravenhorst, and 
for my wife, too. You know which my box is — the upper 
one yonder. Farewell, till Sunday.” 

Von Gravenhorst took Herr Meyerbeer’s arm and drew 


26 


JANUS, 


the intent composer’s eye from those pages of “Prinz 
Max.” But, alas ! as lie yielded the score into Reisse’s 
hand, the author of Les Huguenots ” and Le Prophete ” 
turned and, unasked, whispered in h\s> protegees ear a sen- 
tence or two which covered Moritz’s face with a blush of 
mortification ; A clever thing, my dear child, but still 
not more than half worthy of your talents. Try again, 
with something that will give you more inspiration than 
this seems to have done. You can grind out four or five 
such works as this in a year ! ” 

Having uttered which laconic speech very good-natured- 
ly, Herr Meyerbeer departed with the Count, escorted by 
Herr Rodel, and amid a burst of applause from the gazing 
musicians, which he courteously acknowledged. 

Luckless Moritz ! Wounded in amour pr opr of which 
be had a plentiful supply, first by a thorn-prick from a 
wild rose, and now by this arrow from a master hand ! 
What could he do but scramble back into his chair with 
a red flush upon his olive cheek and mutter an angry 
ejaculation ? The rehearsal proceeded, and very satisfac- 
torily ; but the tuneful numbers gave him no pleasure. 
To be told twice in one night that ^^Prinz Max” w^as a 
waste of his talent, a stop-gap ! His wrath burned quite 
as hotly against Elsa Ehlert as against his critical teacher. 
Elsa was the bird in the hand that was to be punished 
instead of a dozen Herr Meyerbeers in the bush; and 
chance presently gave him an opportunity of revenging 
his piqued self that in a cooler moment he would have 
carelessly dismissed. 

The rehearsal c^me to a surprisingly brilliant close with 
the delightful Hochzeit-Marsch, and singers and orchestra 
at once began running off, wrapping up throats, slipping 


JANUS. 21 

instruments into cases, and exchanging a few parting 
comments. 

Reisse walked across the stage to proffer his arm to 
Fraulein Topp. He passed close beside Elsa Ehlert, 
Bertha Grauschimmel, and two or three other members of 
the female chorus. They bowed. He doffed his hat 
ceremoniously and said with vindictive sweetness and a 
meaning glance at Elsa, ‘^Thanks, Fraulein Ehlert ! 
thanks, Fraulein Grauschimmel ! for your kind justice 
to the ^Prinz Max^ to-night — especially if any of you 
maj’' be pleased to consider it as music that is not sincere 
music, or not of the kind that makes itself because one 
cannot help writing it. Good evening, ladies ! ” which 
Parthian shaft having been let fly with a smiling counte- 
nance, Moritz quitted the Hof theater, with Fraulein Topp 
appendant. 

Elsa Ehlert flushed burning red. She opened her 
mouth, as if to make some rejoinder, and then, overcome 
with mortification at the discovery that her conversation 
had been overheard, turned away from Bertha and the 
rest as quickly as she could. They, fortunately, only half 
caught or half understood Herr Beisse’s speech, and simpered 
him adieu, in pleasure at what they took for some high- 
flown compliment. Elsa looked about in helpless misery 
for Delie but he had departed, so controlling her anger 
as well as she could, she mutely accepted Bertha’s proffered 
arm to walk homeward with the part}^, too vexed at her- 
self to utter a needless word until they left her at her 
doorstep. 


28 


JANUS. 


CHAPTER HI. 

I hold you as a thing enskj'ed and sainted, 

^nd to be talked with in sincerity, 

As with a saint .” — Measure for Measure. 

Well, / never heard anjdhing more impudent, I’m 
sure ! ” asserted Bertha, as she sat in Elsa’s sunshiny 
little kitchen the next morning, having listened with wide- 
open eyes and ears to Elsa’s confession, The idea of his 
daring to say such a nasty thing. I thought it was queer 
he came so out of his way and made that long speech to 
you and Marianne and me. My goodness ! I wish it had 
been me he aimed at ! I’d have given him back a good 
word for himself ! I’m not Bertha Leopoldine Maria 
Grauschimmel for nothing ! ” 

What must he think of me ? ” returned Elsa. A 
dreadfully presuming, conceited girl, I’m sure, to dare to 
pull to pieces, his opera, just as if I knew more than a 
professor! I wonder if he heard every word that I said?” 

You may guess he did,” replied Bertha, contemptuous- 
ly; ^Hliose black-eyed, black-haired people are the worst 
sneaks to listen, composers or what-not I Wouldn’t I like 
to tell him what I think of eavesdroppers, gentle or 
simple 1 And to make you feel so badly, too, you poor 
dear ! ” 

I don’t feel as if I could face him again,” murmured 
Elsa, with the mocking words and pointed salute and 
ironical smile recurring to her. He must despise me for 
an out-and-out fool.” The young girl deluged the canary 
with seed in her bitterness of spirit, though she laughed. 

^‘Look here, Elsa,” said Bertha, rising from her stool, 


JANUS. 


29 


for tlie conversation had been pretty well prolonged 
between the two girls; “it seems to me that you are a 
good deal more put out at having” — and here Bertha 
began smiling mischievously and cast a prudent eye 
toward the open street door as if hasty escape might be 
desirable — “ at having offendedUhis awfully good-looking 
and young and soft-voiced Herr Moritz Keisse than you 
would be if he were gray-haired and bent double and an 
old fellow, like Herr Meyerbeer. I’ve seen it in your- eyes 
for a week, my dear, and if I were Johann Steins, I would 
— oh, my goodness, don’t look at me so savagely ! good 
morning, good morning ! ” Gathering her petticoats about 
her and giggling at her own insinuation Bertha made a 
nimble exit, leaving Elsa standing in the middle of the 
floor with the frown still on her broad, white brow, which 
her irrepressible friend’s banter had suddenly brought up. 

“ Good-looking ! young ! ” she repeated to herself scorn- 
fully. “As if I cared a pin for his fine eyes and his fine 
voice ! — or for anything except having seemed a silly and 
talkative girl to a — well — a musician of talent ! But what 
is the use of crying about what cannot be helped now ? 
Since he overheard, why, there is no more to be said. The 
best thing I can do, now that the house is settled, is to go 
Dut and get a little air in the Park until it is time for 
father’s dinner, and put Herr Moritz Reisse, composer, 
out of my head ! ” 

She kissed the old man gently, as he sat half-slumbering 
over a book in his arm-chair, and taking her hat from its 
peg left the house. On the way to the Park she stopped 
and begged the company of the little child of a neighbor, 
who trotted along by her side in great contentment ; and 
the two presently entered one of the quiet, sunny alleys of 
the Augusta Garten. 


30 


JANUS. 


The midday air was full of the delightful languor of the 
early year- time. Tlie broad stretches of fresh green and 
the patches of golden sunlight on the gravel made pleasant 
vistas, as holding small SepperFs hand, she passed abstract- 
edly onward, with her head bent down beneath her over- 
hanging hat-brim. There were few people in the Augusta. 
She went to a bench and sat down to let her thoughts 
wander dreamily in pleasanter directions than “ Prinz Max 
or its writer, and was just relieved of that incubus when 
she suddenly discovered that Sepperl had slyly disap- 
peared. 

With visions of the Lake terrifying her, Elsa sprang to 
her feet, to be as quickly reassured when through the trees 
ehe saw the truant approaching her led, by a tall gentleman . 
One emotion gave place to another, when Sepperl and his 
guardian turned the corner at her shoulder. 

Good morning, Praulein Ehlert,’’ Moritz Reisse began, 
awkwardly. “Permit me to — to return to you your little 
friend that I found making for the swans yonder as fast 
as his legs could carry him.’’ 

Elsa looked up and murmured some embarrassed thanks, 
with a flush still on her cheeks. Sepperl came to the 
rescue of the situation. 

“ He is a very nice man,” began this unobserving little 
person. “ He has been telling me two such funny stories 
as we came back to you.” Then, turning to Moritz, 
“ You’d better sit right down here on this bench and tell 
me two or three more. Won’t you ? ” 

Between feeling thoroughly vexed over a trifle and laugh- 
ing at it there is often a narrow line. Moritz leaned over 
Sepperl and, looking slyly at Elsa, replied, “My dear little 
fellow, I should like to ; but I am afraid that this young 
lady would say that my story lacked inspiration and did 


5 


JANUS. 31 

not make itself. Or would you not be again so cruel, 
Fraulein Ehlert ? ” Elsa ventured to meet his eyes. 
They were brimful of mirth. The tone of his “ beautiful 
voice ” was full of a very boyish fun. She could not 
help smiling. Moritz burst into a peal of laughter. Elsa 
joined in it. Pique flew off for good in that swift recon- 
ciliation. 

I was insufferably rude to do what I did, Fraulein 
Ehlert,” began Moritz, when he had recovered his com- 
posure. 

Sepperl put out his small hand, and the young man al- 
lowed himself to be drawn to a seat on the bench. I was 
angry enough myself for eavesdropping. Upon my honor, 
though, that was accidental ! And alas, Fraulein ! what you 
said was endorsed by Herr Meyerbeer’s last words to me. 
I lost my temper between you all.” 

“What must you have thought of me, Herr Peisse ? ” 
Elsa exclaimed in turn. “Who am I, a girl in your chorus, 
that I should turn a critic ? Though, all the same,” 
she added, mischievously, as she met his amused look, and 
gathered courage, “ I — I can’t help thinking that I — that 
is, we — were right in thinking what we did.” 

“ Of course you were,” he replied, good-humoredly ; “ I 
agree with you in every syllable. Depend upon it, Frau- 
lein, you shall have better music from me some day than 
^Prinz Max.’ Ah, such words as yours ought to aw^aken 
any man to redeeming his indolence and serving his art 
better ! ” 

She studied the ground in confusion and pleasure at his 
frankness. 

“ But pray tell me, Fraulein Ehlert,” Moritz continued 
eagerly, “ what and who are you, after all ? I begin to 
suspect you of being a disguised somebody very great 


32 


JANUS. 


indeed. What is this mystery between our good Manager 
Kodel and you ? How comes it, that you are only one of 
his chorus-singers, when I am sure that ’’ 

“There is no mystery about me, Herr Heisse,’^ she 
answered, smiling at his fanciful idea. “ I am in the 
chorus that I may earn a little and learn a little, and, above 
ail, wait for my chance to begin harder work.” 

“ Forgive what seems idle curiosity,” he answered. 
“ It is not such. Tell me of your plans, Fraulein, I beg. 
Perhaps I can help you.” 

Forgetting alike all her recent animosity and their brief 
acquaintance, Elsa did not shrink from confiding to the 
intent, courteous composer the few facts of her simple 
history. It was a not uncommon story of poverty ; of as- 
pirations to achieve a position in her musical life; of 
the kindness of Joachim Rodel and Anton Delie, who had 

together brought her and her father from Berlin to B , 

where Manager Rodel had hoped at once to install Elsa in 
the position in his theatre of which her patient study made 
her already more than capable. But the Duke’s champion- 
ship of Fraulein Topp interfering, the watchful but discreet 
Rddel was obliged to keep his pet more or less hidden in 
the obscurity of the chorus or minor roles, until he could get 
the lucky chance to bring Elsa before the public’s notice. 

All this did Moritz draw from Elsa Ehlert as they sat 
there with the little Sepperl between them, that bright 
morning. The young man listened and talked, spell- 
bound, fascinated. Not such had been the women he had 
been most accustomed to meet hitherto. In Elsa the 
woman was lost in the artist. Her whole individuality 
put to instant rout any irreverent thought, the shadow of 
an unworthy association. He listened to her as to a new 
creation in her race, and the spell of her high aim stole 



JANUS. 33 

upon him imperceptibly. On her part, Elsa felt no distrust 
of her polite auditor ; neither did she, until after an hour 
had sped, reflect upon the oddity of her sitting there with 
him in the quiet Augusta, while they conversed together. 
The friendship between these two, who apparently had so 
little in common except art, was begun by the decree of 
fate. 

A clock chimed. Elsa started up in embarrassed surprise. 

“ Try not to judge my unlucky ‘ Prince Max’ too harshly, 
Eriiulein,” he besought her, laughing. 

“ I do not really know it well enough for that,” she re- 
turned, pleasantly, and you are very good to excuse my 
prejudice.” 

You say that, you would like to look over the soprano 
role in it that Fraulein Topp has captured. Suppose, then, 
that you give me the pleasure of dropping in with Herr 
E,5del this afternoon or to-morrow, with the opera under 
my arm, and we can glance through it together. Perhaps 
you may find something better to your liking, and my 
artistic character may redeem itself a degree or two. 
Besides that, there is some other music of mine, a song here, 
an aria there, which 1 should like you to try over with me. 
May Herr Rodel bring me?” he concluded, quizzically. 

^^Herr E-odel may bring you,” she replied, hesitatingly ; 
my father, too, will be glad to see you.” 

Half-ashamed of her frank permission, but not sorry at 
its being given, Elsa hurried away with Sepperl. Moritz 
stood to watch her tall, graceful figure as it passed out of 
sight : then with a sigh he sank back on the bench, which 
seemed curiously deserted-looking. 

What a gentle, simple creature ! How unaffected and 
guileless ! ” he exclaimed to himself. “ I believed that 
such existed only in romances and poems. To even the 


34 


JANUS. 


most confirmed rake it is, I suppose, decreed to meet some 
such charming Dorothea wliom he must simply how down 
to and respect with all his soul, and feel his very being all 
at once turned against Undine and Venus! Happy the 
honest man who — ” and here his musings became of a 
sort decidedly novel to his head. Presentlj^, too, something 
she had said about his music slipped into his mind. 

Upon my word, I believe that I never wrote so well as 
when I was in love, and fool enough to fancy myself 
loved ! If love be the ^ inspiration ’ to lift me aloft in my 
art, I have known it and lost it forever. Dio! Where is 
she now, I wonder ? Hot yet altogether out of my 
thoughts, that is certain ! What a contrast between such a 
woman and this enchantingly sincere, grave creature! It 
takes all sorts to make a world ! It does indeed ! 

When he got to his room that afternoon the first thing 
he did was to sit down to his piano and write smilingly a 

Du hist wie eine Dlumej'^ for which Schumann or 
Eubinstein might have been willing to exchange theirs. 

He did go to the small house in Brieftaubestrasse that 
very next afternoon. Excellent Rodel knocked his glasses 
down on his nose and sharply surveyed the composer when 
he spoke of going with him. 

H’m, h’m,’’ he finally grunted. I don’t know about 
this ! What tricks are you up to now, Herr Composer ? 
Remember, I don’t fancy any that will mean a shadow’s 
worth of mischief to Elsa Ehlert — no, no ! I don’t trust you 
good-for-naught, good-looking young music-makers, with 
your black eyes and dulcet tones. You’d much better stay 
at home. Go and spend the afternoon with Countess this 
or Baroness that. You can’t hurt them, you know.” 

^^But, Herr Rodel,” pleaded Reisse, part in vexation and 
part in laughter, I was asked to come. I swear to you 


JANUS. 


35 

I will behave myself beautifully, so long as I have the 
luck of the girl’s acquaintance ! Truly and sincerely ! 
Come, now, be amiable and let us set out together, for I 
protest I must go without you if you decline.” 

E/Odel grumblingly assented, saying, 

Well, so be it ! But I shall keep my eye upon you. 
And, above all, remember that Fraulein Elsa is betrothed, 
as a matter of family convenience, to a very respectable, 
sober-minded young attorney here in the town. He never 
interferes with her artistic doings or acquaintances, and 
keeps himself suitably in the background, but will not like 
his sweetheart to form too platonic a friendship with you, 
I have no idea that it would break her heart if she sud- 
denly found out that she did not want to marry him. In 
fact, I don’t think she has ever fallen in love with Herr 
Steins, or anything except her dear profession. But if you 
go to work to give my little girl any instructions in love, 
you may get your curly head cracked, my lad. Look out ! ” 

The first call made, it is not surprising that, in spite of 
all the hurry and worry to be got through with before the 
eventful Sunday night that was to hear ‘^Prinz Max” 
produced, Moritz found his ysr?ij in the same direction two 
or three times. With each hour did Elsa Ehlert’s influ- 
ence descend like the gentle rain from heaven upon him. 
As for her, she knew not that her feet had passed through 
an invisible gate, and that a new world, which was the 
old, lay before her. Moritz left his precious duplicate 
score of the Prinz Max ” with her, and she sat and sang 
it over, until she began to know it by heart ; but there 
often came a cadence into her voice which meant that that 
heart was either just going to sleep or just waking up. 
Which ? 


36 


JANUS, 




CHAPTER IV. 

“ The playhouse now, tliere must you sit.” 

K. Henry IV. 

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.” 

Cymbeline. 

A QUAKTEPw to six o’clock Sunday night, in the B 

Hoftheater ! For half an hour parquet and boxes and 
galleries had been besieged. Behind the great curtain, 
where the colorful initial scene of ^^Prinz Max’’ was set, 
there reigned endless confusion. 

The chorus were in full attire. Stage-manager Urach, 
red with excitement, darted about, enjoining and dispos- 
ing. The thirty’- danseuses of the incidental ballet were 
grouped in a rouged, bespangled parterre of simpering 
complacency. Gas-men and property-men, all the func- 
tionaries of a night’s representation were calling, hammer- 
ing, and running. Joachim Rodel, despite responsibilities, 
seemed in great spirits. 

Downstairs in the greenroom, a little later, there was 
more anxiety, if less bewilderment. Reisse, in his svening 
dress, finally found a moment to sit down in a corner and 
make a trifling alteration in one of the orchestral parts. 
Suddenly a matter yet neglected occurred to him. A call- 
boy^ was despatched to Fraulein Topp with a question. 
Fritz returned with the announcement that the dressing- 
room was vacant. The lady had not yet arrived. 

Great heavens ! ” exclaimed Moritz, upstarting, not 
here yet ? It is two minutes to six ! I will run up to 


JANUS. 


37 


the stage. There is some mistake. She must he there.” 

He mounted the narrow flight three steps at a time, 
hurrying past Elsa Elhert at the top, merely pausing long 
enough to exchange a hand-clasp with his friend and ac- 
cept her kind wishes for the thorough success of his new 
opera. He ran on, looking to right and left for the ample 
form of the missing prima donna in her purple and yellow 
gear. 

He nearly stumbled over Eodel, who had paused to peep 
through the spy-hole in the curtain. 

Behold ! ” exclaimed the manager, dramatically. 

Moritz put his eye to the chink. The Hoftheater was 
truly an inspiringly brilliant sight, with its fresh decora- 
tions, the lustre of diamonds, and the gay toilettes ; the blaze 
of the central chandelier falling over a horseshoe of the 
beauty and wealth and rank of the capital. On the left, 
the Ducal box, yet empty, bore its stately insignia of flags 
and wreaths. In ten minutes the theatre would be a 
crush. 

“ Where, in the name of goodness, is Topp ? ” said 
Moritz, remembering himself suddenly. 

Topp ? ” quoth Ebdel. “ Why yonder she stands — 
no, below stairs, they told me ! Why ? Everything is all 
right. She said that — ” 

“ Topp is not downstairs. She has not come, Eddel. 
1 don’t see where she can be. I am horribly afraid some- 
thing is wrong ! ” Moritz exclaimed, in increasing appre- 
hension. 

Eodel started. ^^You don’t mean it?” he returned. 

Aren’t you mistaken ? It will be time for you to begin 
in fifteen minutes. I told her expressly to be here a little 
early. Stay here a second, Eeisse ; I’ll find her for you.” 

Eodel hurried away. Back he came directly, however, 


38 


JANUS. 


with a furious face. the Lord, Beisse, you are right ! 
Something evil is to pay. But don’t let a soul about us 
suspect. Engel, Engel,” the upset manager called to a 
trusty squire within earshot, “ put on your hat, run at 
once as fast as your legs will carry you and see if Frauleiu 
Topp is anywhere downstairs ; and if she isn’t, make for 
her lodgings at No. 21, and tell her to come to the theatre 
at once. Keep your mouth shut on the way.” 

The discreet Engel ran off like an arrow. 

You do not imagine any serious detention, do you ?” 
inquired Moritz, feeling now exceedingly uncomfortable. 

“ I only know that Topp is a woman — and an actress ; 
and that this curtain ought to go up very, very soon,” re- 
sponded Bodel, grimly, consulting his watch nervously. 

But Bodel had scarcely put his watch into his waistcoat 
pocket before Engel reappeared. He beckoned the mana- 
ger and Moritz Beisse further into the shadow. A stran- 
ger, who for thinness and tallness might have rivalled 
Bodel himself, stood waiting. 

Manager Bodel, I believe ? ” queried this new-comer, 
stiffly. 

Your servant, sir.” 

“1 am Physician Schoemng. I met this gentleman at 
the rear door. I had come to tell you that Erauleiu 
Topp—” 

“ Go on, for God’s sake! ” cried Bodel. 

— “ In getting into her carriage ten minutes ago suffered 
an apoplectic fit. It is impossible that she should recover 
for some hours. I will make you out the proper certificate 
for her at once, if 3mu desire.” 

Bodel started hack, paler in an instant than Engel. A 
thunderbolt had descended upon him. ^^Do you know 
what you are saying ? ” he faltered. Eraulein Helene Topp 


JAM US, 39 

ill ? Apoplexy ? Humbug ! She must come here at once 
— at once. Engel, run you — 

“ Eraulein Topp is quite unconscious, Herr Manager,’^ 
interrupted the physician. ‘‘ It may be hours before she 
is restored. Her condition is dangerous.” 

There was no use in further contravening the fiat. Ter- 
rible visions flashed through Kodel’s mind now, until he 
well-nigh sank under them — a clamorous and disappointed 
house — the vexation of the Duke — and the extinguishment 
in gasless gloom of all the eclat attendant upon the ex- 
pected first production of the “ Erinz Max.” He fairly 
tottered as he turned to Reisse and exclaimed in absolute 
anguish, We are lost — lost !” 

But from the first second in which Moritz grasped tiie 
calamity, he was conscious of that curious sensation wliicli 
most of us have experienced under, it is to be hoped, less 
weighty disasters — that all this had been gone through 
with somehow at some time before. The wild resort and 
daring remedy appeared to have been foreseen. 

He slipped his arm through the unfortunate Rodefis to 
restrain his betraying the intelligence to the other persons 
so closely watching them, and asked, tremblingly: ^^This 
is absolutely'' the case. Physician Schoening ? ” 

Absolutely,” answered the impassive doctor. I scarce- 
ly saw proper measures begun for her safety before I came. 
She had complained of illness and giddiness all the after- 
noon, and with difficulty was dressed for the theatre. She 
fell into a stupor just as her carriage was ready.” 

Ah, we are undone, we are undone,” Herr Rodel 
groaned, in a fresh access of despair at these details. ‘‘Ho 
one, positively no one, is there to sing her part to-night. 
Ruined ! ruined !” 

“ Pray calm yourself, Herr Rodel,” Moritz interrupted. 


40 


JANUS. 


in great alarm. I am sure that I see a way out of this 
difficulty.’’ 

The angular doctor made his adieux and vanished. 
^^Rodel,” exclaimed the young composer, “do you see 
that watch ? In seven minutes I must be in my seat 
yonder with my band. In those seven minutes we must 
find a substitute to sing the role of the Princess Zatime?^ 
Rodel turned upon him like a caged animal. He laughed 
bitterly. “ The company has not one under-study in it 
for this piece. We could not sacrifice any member of it, 
if there were. Oh, Topp ! accursed Topp ! ” 

“ Fraulein Ehlert, your protegee and my friend, can 
take her place ! You know something of her voice. I will 
wager my life on her knowing the part, and on her ability to 
take it, this moment.” 

“Nonsense! Do you think if I believed such a thing 
possible I would let you be the first to suggest it ? What 
do you mean ? ” 

“ J ust what I say ! Slie knows the part quite well 
enough. We have been over the whole score together two 
or three times since Tuesday. Her memory is wonder- 
ful. I noticed that- she scarcely looked at her notes yes- 
terday. Rodel, I am certain that that girl can sing the 
part as well as Topp herself ! ” 

“ SaJcerment / But it is impossible, impossible, I say.” 
Rbdel’s eyes were nearly out of his head. “ She never 
has sung a solo in her life, nor acted except — ” 

“ She’ll sing and act then all the better now, when so 
much depends upon her ! I know, Iknow what I am talking 
about, Rbdel. By heaven, you shall trust me ! Haven’t 
you always said that Fraulein Ehlert was a genius ? Isn’t 
this the very chance you have always hoped for her ? 
Man, it looks like destiny ! ’* 


JANUS. 


4^ 

The manager’s jaws came together with a snap. He 
stood for an instant bewildered, undecided, aghast 
Suddenly he looked up, as if a ray of faith and hope 
illumined his mind. 

Moritz Heisse ! ” he exclaimed, you may be a mad- 
man, but your lunacy is catching! Fly, get this dear girl, 
this prodigy. I was a fool not to think of her myself ! 
The house is not nearly settled yet 1 ” 

Elsa stood in her coquettish costume, with the sopranos 
and altos. It was plain that the Topp calamity was al- 
ready an open secret. With every eye on him, Moritz 
darted up to Elsa. She answered nothing to his request, 
but followed the young man obediently. 

“Fraulein Ehlert,” whispered Eodel, addressing his 
protegee in stern ceremony, through his excitement, ^^you 
have heard of this wretched business that has befallen us ? 
Herr Eeisse here informs me that you are sufficiently 
familiar with the part of the Princess Zatime to assume 
it at once. Can it be possible that such is the truth ? 

The part of the Princess Zatime f — I ? — at once ? 
repeated Elsa, glancing from one to the other of the faces 
before her, with her own face pale enough and her heart in 
a flutter. ^^Why, yes, Herr Eodel — perhaps I could. 
You know that this week Herr Eeisse and I have been 
busy with the score — ” 

“ I have not to doubt my pupil’s excellent memory. 
Elsa, my child, we are in a sore strait. Do not try to do 
this thing unless you feel fairly certain of your ability. But 
if you can assume the part now, in five minutes, and .carry 
it through fairly well, my dear, for God’s love do it. If 
you can, I believe too that your reputation is made.” 

She stood white and silent before them. 

^^You alone can judge in such a matter ; not we,” the 


42 JANUS. 

manager added. He searched her countenance with his 
eyes. Think — think well, I implore you ! 

Hot a word from her for a second or two. Her face 
lowered, tliought balancing against thought, within her 
mind, Elsa was obeying literally E-oders word. Doubt- 
ing, trembling, fascinated, the tried composer of the 
“ Prinz Max ” and the old manager hung upon her com- 
ing reply. All at once, looking up with an expression 
of full consciousness of what lay before her, the young 
singer answered calmly, have thought ! I can do it. I 
am able. I will succeed.^^ 

As if by a preconcerted signal, the girl’s bold resolution 
had just been uttered, when a long-resounding burst of 
applause without the curtain and the Tusch from the or- 
chestra filled the theatre. It was the customary greeting 
to the Duke and his party, who took their seats in their 
box. To Eodel the occurrence was a superstitious climax. 

God bless you, my darling girl ! ” he exclaimed, seiz- 
ing Elsa’s hands. Succeed you will ! Be oft with you ! 
Angevine will see to your costume. I will send you the 
score. Be ready to enter with the second act. I will 
speak to the audience at. once. Hurry down, Beisse ! ” 

The sensation in the regions behind the curtain can be 
imagined. Fraulein Ehlert, of the chorus! What luck! what 
audacity ! what partiality ! In front, the buzz of tongues 
that followed manager Bodel’s apologetic announcement 
from the footlights was more general but not at aU hostile. 

^Wery untimely affair,” remarked the Duke to one of 
his suite ; but then I have great confidence in Herr 
Bodel’s judgment. I dare say this young artist was a 
special provision through it. We will expect the best of 
this Fraulein Elsa Ehlert, of Berlin, whatever she may 
be.” 


JANUS. 


43 


A. very little later the crash of the prelude stilled all 
quodlibets. Moritz could be seen in his director’s 
chair, conducting the orchestra with seeming composure. 
The bell rang, and up went the curtain amidst great ap- 
plause for the scene-painter. The “Prinz Max” was 
begun, for either its good or its evil. 

The first act went well. The finale, with its captivating 
dash and sparkle, elicited cheers. Everyone was called 
before the curtain half-a-dozen times. The Duke and an- 
other distinguished personage were observed by the 
feverish Podel to clap their hands like schoolboys in their 
delight. 

But the curtain had scarcely fallen before Moritz dashed 
across under the stage. He reached the little corridor 
communicating with Fraulein Topp’s dressing-room. Rodel 
and a stranger were pacing up and down. The manager 
looked as if he would explode from sheer excitement. 

She will be here in one moment,” he murmured. So 
far, all is good — good. Herr Reisse, let me make you and 

Herr X acquainted ; ” and he named a name eminent 

among the impresarios of the day. 

The stranger bowed. I understand that this sudden 
misfortune makes us anticipate an interesting event ; dear 
me — yes, a most interesting event,” began he, politely, 

Moritz bowed, scarcely attending to such civilities. 
Would that dressing-room door ever open ? 

You are truly lucky in having so gifted a young sub- 
stitute for the afflicted lady ! Dear me, yes ; especially 
fortunate,” went on the foreign manager, blandly. “H 
trust that all will pass off with delightful smoothness.” 

The door opened. Moritz and Rbdel fell back in amaze 
ment. Elsa Ehlert stood on the threshold, followed by 
Bertha Grauschimmel and Frau Angevine, the gaslight 


44 


JANUS, 


blazing behind her, some sheets of the score in her hand* 
Could this bright apparition be really Elsa ? Her hither- 
to calm face was flashing with excitement into positive 
radiance that was not rouge. The improvised Zatime 
dress, all scarlet and gold, was rich and effective. The 
white and silver head-gear fell around her dark waves of 
hair. Her large eyes shone. She was a transformed crea- 
ture in her piquant beauty. She advanced with a firm 
step that electrified the trio before her, and exclaimed with 
a gayety almost saucy, Am I comme il faut, Herr Reisse ? 
Manager Rodel, I am ready ! Congratulate Frau Ange- 
vine and Bertha, if I suit you ! 

“ You — ^you — why, Elsa Ehlert, you are positively rav- 
ishing ! ejaculated Rodel, rapturously. Indeed, who 
are you ? Can this be my little ganz-stillenf^’ 

She laughed inspiritingly. And Herr Reisse has not 
yet pronounced his critical judgment on a toilette that, 
within half-an-hour, has certainly made itself and not been 
made.^’ 

Moritz started from his lethargy at this quotation. I 
dare not criticise the costume of a stranger lady in her pres- 
ence. This is not Fraulein Ehlert ; this is the veritable 
J^rmcess Zatime herself,” he replied. 

“ I hope so,” returned Zatime. I’ve not dropped this 
music since they began work on me ! Dear Herr Rodel, all 
will go well. I am sure of it now.” 

And I too. Your courage, your beauty — ah, I have 
new life ! ” Truly the worthy old manager looked as if 
he had. 

“ Herr Reisse,” pursued Elsa, this cut here — this too, 
please ! And look — I cannot think of that cabaletta — nor 
that thing there.” 

Moritz noted them in his score. He hurried off to his 


JAN vs. 


45 


orchestra. Rodel and Herr X- sped elsewhere. Elsa 

re-entered her dressing-room. The shut door forbade fur- 
ther glimpses of her. 

Once more in his chair before the footlights waiting for 
the signal for the beginning of the second act, he looked up 
at the box of his friend, Count Alexis von Gravenhorst. 
A gay little party were seated there. The Count had already 
rushed around into the wings to exchange a few words with 
his friend, and give a message of congratulation and sym- 
pathy from the Duke to Moritz. 

So that is von Gravenhorst’s wife,” soliloquized Mor- 
itz, “ my fair hostess at Gravenhorst Lodge that will 
be ? ” His first violin, Herr Baun, had pointed out a 
stately brunette in a voyante lavender satin as the Countess 
von Gravenhorst. Moritz duly looked up at her admir- 
ingly. The other members of the Count’s party were nat- 
urally in the rear and hidden from his sight. But for this 
fact, Moritz Beisse must undoubtedly have recognized, with 
{in agitation greater than that caused by the new^s of Frau- 
lein Topp’s illness, the companion of the brunette lady in 
lavender — a companion who had persistently refused, under 
various pretexts, to occupy a seat between Count Alexis 
and her friend Fraulein Anna Lind. 

Moritz, Moritz ! Why are not your clear eyes able to 
pierce panel and drapery, and meet another pair surrep- 
titiously bent upon you ? Is it that your soul does not 
feel — 


... a secret weight, 

A warning of approaching fate ? 


But there was no time for predictions. The orchestra 
rushed into the beautiful entre-acte. The curtain rose on 
the palace-hall; and down it, surrounded by her train. 


46 


JANUS. 


came Elsa Ehlert. How her heart sank and rose within 
her breast, who can tell, despite the cordial acclaim wel- 
coming her ? Then her voice seemed, all at once, to be 
under its owner’s perfect control, and that royal soprano — 
how often after that evening crowded audiences heard it in 
Faust and La Juive and Tannhduser ! — took flight in the 
little scena. 

“ Keizende Ahnung ! Liebliche Hoffnung I ” 

Most truly had Elsa Ehlert prophesied that all must go 
well with her, and well with the Prinz Max ! Never in 

B had such a debutante been heard. A simultaneous 

thrill of delight passed over the great audience. She had 
risen so unexpectedly from their midst, like a star out of 
the sea ! Enchanted, enthusiastic, the theatre became a 
roaring whirlwind of applause as that extraordinary trill 
(for which she was later so renowned) concluded the aria. 
Bodel was like a man drunk with rapture. Moritz him- 
self had expected no such exhibition of the young singer’s 
talent. Behind the scenes echoed the bursts of acclaim 
which broke out again and again as the act advanced. 
The orchestra was drowned in the tumult of approval. 

And in regard to her acting of the character, which. 
Moritz had feared ill-suited to her, be it recollected that 
Beisse’s Prinz Max ” was not the comic opera of to-day, 
but a vigorous bit of work with the spirit of scores 
by Boieldieu and Cornelius, Auber and Rossini, in its 
musical essence. Elsa, as she w'ent on, unconsciously in- 
vested the role of Zatime with a naive sentiment and a 
demure piquancy and tenderness underlying it, of which the 
librettist had probably little dreamed. It revealed even 
to the composer himself w^hat he had not suspected. Vocally 
and dramatically she was an ideal, his ideal, Zatime. 


JANUS. 


47 


The act ended. Elsa advanced to receive an ovation, 
led on by Kodel and E-eisse. He pressed her hand as she 
stood next him, bowing beneath the applause. As she 
once ventured to turn her eyes upon Moritz’s while they 
retraced their steps before the curtain, what jojMii success 
for his sake and her own, what pleasure at his admiration, 
as distinct from the rest, and what a rapturous recog- 
nition of worthy art-service at last begun shone in her 
glance ! Yet behind the shadow of Count Alexis von 
Oravenhorst’s box another woman caught the look be- 
tween the composer and singer, brief as it was. 

Elsa rested, and received the congratulations that show- 
ered upon her during the short intermission vouchsafed. 
The foreign manager, the overjoyed Rodel, the Duke, the 
Great Personage, Count Alexis von Gravenhorst, and a 
guest— -a dozen more of the privileged would not be 
denied the honor of expressing their enthusiasm. Hever 

was such a thing heard of in B as this debut. Among 

those wEo filled the little dressing-room, all talking at 
once, until the considerate Kbdel fairly ordered them out, 
Moritz Eeisse recognized a tall, well-behaved, and im- 
passive-looking young man that Bertha Grauschimmel 
(now a sworn friend to Moritz) declared to be that hor- 
rid, solemn Herr Steins ; Elsa’s betrothed, you know, Herr 
Eeisse.” Moritz and the man of the law presently found 
themselves shaking hands coldly. Johann accepted the 
evening’s situation with a kind of proprietary indifference 
that absurdly exasperated Moritz. 

The twenty minutes passed : the last act came on. With 
it, our friend Elsa outdid herself, and set the seal to the 
evening’s glories. She was far more familiar with this 
act than the second. When she was uncertain, her im- 
provisation was tact itself. The last note of the final 


48 


JANUS. 


chorus dying away, came the assurances of the unparal- 
leled success of Prinz Max and Fraulein Elsa Ehlert. 
The clappings and bravissimi threatened to split the roof 
of the Hof theater. The finale must be sung again — that 
was certain. Sung over again it was. One more tumul- 
tuous good-night rang forth. The Duke and his guests 
stood up to applaud Elsa and Moritz and the whole cast, 
with Herr Eodel ; and thereupon began the roll of car- 
riages, and the enraptured folk streamed out under a 
starry sky to cool their hot heads. Manager Eodel in- 
sisted upon arranging the conventional late supper to 
which all the company were bidden. Very hilarious was 
that. But before leaving the theatre, Moritz darted 
back into the corridor. The door of Elsa’s dressing-room 
was open, and she was within, left alone for a moment. 

He entered ; as she smiled once more and held out her 
hand he really knew not what to say, nor what he would 
like to say. His heart was swelling with more than 
merely the debt his gratified ambition owed. He met her 
eves, and, faltering out some broken sentence about 
‘‘ obligations — the crowning hour of my life,” sank upon 
his knees and pressed his hot lips twice to her hand. 
Then he started up, just in time to avoid detection by 
Bertha and others, who appeared on the scene. He made 
his escape, scarcely conscious of his passionate act. 


JANUS. 


49 


CHAPTEE V. 

“He must needs go that the Devil drives.’’ 

AlVs Well That Ends Well 

“ By Jove, Beisse ! There hasnT been such a success of a 
singer and an opera in a dozen j^-ears ! ’’ exclaimed Count 
Alexis von Gravenhorst in course of a hurried call in the 
Hoftheater a week later. “ I haven’t a minute to spare ; 
hut I thought. I must run in and say so. Pour times since 
the first night, by’ Ducal order ! And such houses ! and 
nobody talking of anything except Eraulein Ehlert and 
your music ! ” 

“It is a great thing for Aer,” returned Moritz, smiling, 
— “unknown yesterday, famous to-day. By-the-by, Herr 
Rodel, what do you think about her accepting a Berlin 
engagement ? ” 

“ Oh, she has proposals from several sides, my dear 
Herr ! ” said Rddel, looking up from his account-books ; 
“but the Duke will have a word first on that point. We 
shall see ! He will not allow her so soon to leave B 

“ How does she bear her good-fortune, Bddel ? ” asked 
von Gravenhorst. 

“Like the sensible girl she is,” replied he, jealous of his 
pet’s character. “ No turning of Tier head ! She has moved 
herself and her old father into rather better quarters and 
keeps a maid — that is all the change I know of. As for 
these noble folk, of your class, Herr Count, go about 
persecuting her with attentions and wanting to know 
her, she minds them not a whistle. She leaves 


50 


JANUS. 


their manoeuvrings to me. She is as simple and 
unspoiled as ever. Oh, I tell you, Elsa Ehlert is a marvel- 
lous girl — none other would conduct herself so admirably ! 

Fraulein Topp is still too ill to sing ? 

^^Yes, or pretends she is. I’m sorry for her; but the 
fact is, she was growing too old, and the Duke will give her 
a generous pension. Fraulein Ehlert wdll occupy her post 
until the season’s end, by the express desire of the Duke. 
She sang at the Eesideiiz yesterdaj’-, you know, and she was 
made a great deal of. She appears to-night as Valentine, 
by-the-by — ^and a magnificent success she is certain to 
make of it. Meyerbeer talked of coming over.” 

The three men chatted for a few moments more ; then 
the Count, turning to Eeisse, began: “1 am wasting my 
time. Let us plan at once for your coming up to the 
Lodge to spend this promised summer with my wife and 
myself. We are delighted at the prospect, I assure you. 
By-the-by, in your note I discovered a droll mistake. You 
have still, according to it, to see the Countess for the first 
time. That was not she in the front of the box on the 
evening of the first performance ! The lady in lavender 
was Fraulein Lind, her great friend. My wife complained 
of a headache and sat well out of the glare of the stage all 
the evening. But to resume — we shall expect you the 
instant you are free from musical duty. I can’t come 
down from Gravenhorst often just at present, but a note 
will tell me when to send the carriage. It’s a long drive — 
pleasanter than the railroad journey, however.” 

Sundry further arrangements being assured, the Count 
hurried off. 

The excitement of the past month seemed like a dream 
to Moritz, as a few weeks after this chat he found himself 
lying back luxuriously in the comfortable travelling car- 


JANUS. 


51 


nage sent for him to B Alexis, and idly watched 

the rolling wheels that bore him from the city, its Hof- 
theater, Elsa Ehlert, and all other cares or novel distrac- 
tions. 

The season had closed triumphantly with two farewell 
performances of his "Prinz Max.” He had bidden Elsa 
and Bodel good-bye rather reluctantl3^ The young singer 
was to accompany the manager and a certain Baron and 
Baroness Brandt to a spa to recruit herself. She and Moritz, 
had naturally seen a good deal of each other since the pro- 
duction of his opera; and, Johann Steins or not, Elsa’s mind 
was gradually growing accustomed to pondering upon a 
type of the man in art to an extent which she did not yet 
discern. As for Moritz, his was a nature to reverence 
Elsa with a vague devotion ; but to feel love, passion, for 
her antitype. He already admitted to himself that he half 
worshipped her. He never considered her in the light of 
a woman for his love. He felt that psychologically he was 
not the man to love such a girl. She surely must leave 
him some day ; and with that inevitable divergence of their 
paths he must be plunged once more into the hot and com- 
monplace turmoil from the fume of which her influence so 
mysteriously seemed to lift him. To her he might be a 
flesh-and-blood reality ; to him, she was still more or less 
an abstract influence — beneflcent, condescending — apart. 

The carriage sped onward while Moritz ruminated in- 
dolently. On either side of the highway the walls and 
hedges were green wdth overrunning vines and briars. 
The thick-ankled peasant women diligent in the fields, 
the sunny meadows, yellow with new grain, the deli- 
cately verdant reaches of vineyards aslant the hills, 
and the distant blue of the mountain chain growing 
darker as he approached — all these delighted his eye 


52 


JANUS. 


and enhanced his grateful sense of liberty and a wel- 
come at the end of the road. By eleven o’clock the spires 

of B rose afar back in the green plain. The carriage- 

track became more or less shut within gorges and spurs of 
the low foothills of the mountain chain. 

It was the first time that he had accepted an invitation to 
von Gravenhorst’s villa. 

Indeed he and Alexis had scarcely seen one another since 
their student days in Munich together. In that time and 
city Alexis had fancied Reisse and his gay Bohemian circle 
of musicians, painters, and literarians, and had become some- 
what of an art enthusiast for the time being. But Alexis 
left Munich to succeed to his father’s property. Practical 
duty anon dissipated the young nobleman’s art -hobbies 
and turned him into a gentleman - farmer, with all the 
sudden intentness that was part of his nature. He and 
Reisse soon ceased even to correspond, nor did the Count 
concern himself with any of the merry fraternity. But 

when Mioritz came to B the friendship quickened to 

new life at once. 

It would have been difficult for Moritz to light upon a 
more retired summer retreat than was promised by the 
glimpses of the Lodge Park into which a private road sud- 
denly admitted the carriage. A veritable atmosphere of 
weariness and languid hours seemed to shut in the stranger 
who passed the geranium-crowned gates of this hermitage 
on which Alexis’ father had spent years of care. Vistas 
of narrow alleys, miniature lakes, where swans floated 
leisurely, sombre depths of almost forest, where ferns and 
rhododendrons looked skyward — every rood breathed a 
certain quiescence, loneliness, mystery. And then, all at 
once, around a turn of the ever-ascending avenue, appeared 
a stalwart figure and a full-bearded, manly face — Alexis 


JANUS. 


53 


von Gravenhorst, swinging a thick walking -cane and 
shouting a greeting seconded bj the fine hound beside him. 

“You are half -an -hour later, my dear fellow, than 1 
expected you,” said the Count, leaping into the carriage, 
and grasping Eeisse’s hand. “Welcome a thousand 
times to Gravenhorst ! The Countess and I propose to 
make you forget that operas and symphonies are your 
mission upon earth.” 

“I fear I too readily yield to such kind artifices,” replied 
Moritz. “ Surely this is the Paradise of Indolence. The 
new opera I have promised to write for Berlin will become a 
dream unless I take care. You and the Countess are 
quite by yourselves, I believe you wrote me.” 

“ Entirely, and therefore doubly pleased at your society. 
I am sorry, bj^-the-by, that there has been a delay in a 
new piano I have ordered for our music-room as a fourth 
member of our circle ; but it will be sent shortly, they tell 
me. Let me tell you, Beisse, that I believe that I find in 
you and my wife two individuals absolutely certain to be 
pleased with one another. She and I have often. looked for- 
ward to this meeting here.” 

“ Your marriage was a sudden and quiet one,” Moritz 
said. 

“ Yes. N^adine is a Pole by birth and education. I 
met her in Warsaw and there married her ; and since our 
tirrival in Germany we have lived extremely retired. Her 
health is more or less delicate, and the air here agrees with 
her peculiarly. My wife’s early history is a painful one. I 
rarely allude to it — in fact, I have tried my best to teach 
her to forget it. Her adopted mother, Princess Berinski, 
was a most superior woman.” 

Started upon the topic of his wife. Count Alexis was 
disposed to continue a good deal further, for after a short 


54 


JANUS. 


silence, he went on : I am curious to know if you will 
find my wife and myself so unlike as I delight in telling 
her we are. Art, I long ago put away forever. I have 
learned to think about ditches and -'crops and my ten- 
antry and my stables, instead of the piano and the studios. 
She, I verily believe, lives in a world of art dail3^ Why, Na- 
dine is a most accomplished musician, and as a painter, some 
great brushes have told me that she could easily win de- 
cided distinction. In fact, Reisse,” the Count continued,, 
meditative and smiling, I often wonder how it was that 
a woman like Nadine ever was willing to marry a fellow 
like me. But married we were ; and, good heavens ! how 
happy we are ! I am proud of her. She, I confess, seems, 
satisfied with me. All the same, I am overjoyed at her 
having in jmu a kindred spirit, with whom she can inter- 
change high and aesthetic ideas for weeks to come. I 
dread your table-talk alread3^’^ 

They rumbled out abruptly between some clumps of firs, 
through which the Lodge showed itself in all its stateli- 
ness ; and after that the carriage ran smoothly out of tho 
avenue and into the plateau before the castle. The granito 
fa9ade and broad steps looked across a flat garden severely 
laid out in the English style, and embellished with foun- 
tains and statuary. Beyond this came the wooded brink 
of the mountain itself. Thence, a bewilderingly broad 
prospect stretched out below. 

Never mind jmur toilet. I am in haste myself. 
You are a man of genius and therefore excusable. Let me 
take you to Nadine at once. I presume she is still in her 
usual morning haunt, her plein air studio, I call it.” 

Moritz had opportunity for but a few words of remon-^ 
strance before he found himself piloted by his friend across, 
the hallway, a breezy passage running quite through the 


JANUS. 


55 


ground-floor of the Lodge. It opened into the gardens. 
The walls were hung, after the fashion of so many similar 
apartments, with large hunting- scenes, horns, and skins 
(Alexis affected to despise the chase, and these were relics 
of other people’s prowess in remote expeditions), and a col- 
lection of arms. They passed out into the rear garden. 
Moritz immediately observed that this was very differ- 
ently laid out from those in front, and was, apparently, 
nothing but a small wilderness of dark-red roses and lilies. 

My wife has an absolute passion for dark-red roses,” ex- 
plained Alexis. 

The Count’s words, the sight, the perfume of the volup- 
tuous flowers awoke for an instant old memories within 
Moritz’s heart. He had once known a woman with a pas- 
sion for dark-red roses. Little thought he, however, that 
with every advancing step into that blooming labyrinth 
he was involving himself more inextricably within the 
maze of his own evil destiny. 

The rise of the ground, and an abrupt turn of the narrow 
path suddenly revealed another outlook, although a high 
hedge hid even the chimneys of the Lodge beneath. With 
admirable taste, a large Turkish summer-house had been 
built on this spot, the crown of the mountain. It stood 
just in advance of them. A lady was its sole occupant. 
Her back was directly toward them. An easel was before 
her. Absorbed in her occupation, she apparently did not 
realize that any intruders were approaching, until their foot- 
steps grated on the stone before the threshold. The Countess 
von Gravenhorst turned as if in surprise. Her brush still 
in her hand, she stood in the centre of the building to re- 
ceive her husband and the expected guest. 

My dear Hadine ! behold my old friend, Herr Eeisse,” 
said Alexis, doing the honors in smiling good-humor. 


56 


JANUS. 


“ whose acquaintance I am delighted to have you make 
■ — et mce versaJ’^ 

Moritz bowed. He scarcely knew what he said. He mur- 
mured some words of commonplace salutation, amazed at 
this unexpected encounter.- But the Countess von Gra- 
venhorst, whatsoever emotions were fluctuating beneath 
her unruffled exterior, betrayed little of them. Her beau- 
tiful face, ever of a singular pallor, grew slightly paler, 
and her little hand grasped the back of the low willow 
chair from which she had risen, with a clench that made 
the small knuckles white against it. Her tall, slender 
figure, in its clinging white dress, bent in calm greeting, 
and she replied calmly : 

am charmed to meet Herr Reisse of whom I 
have long known so much.’’ (There was a slightly marked 
inflection of the last words.) “Ennui' may punish you 
speedily, Herr Reisse, for consenting to bury yourself in this 
out-of-the- world spot for a while. I assure you that ray 
husband and I have looked forward to your visit with the 
greatest pleasure.” 

“The pleasure of a sojourn here under such delightful 
circumstances, Countess, is a matter of congratulation to 
myself,” responded Moritz. His voice in this swift speech 
sounded to him oddly mechanical and far-away as he spoke» 
“I can hardly express the pleasant anticipations I have 
formed incoming up through the park with your hus- 
band.” 

“ Let us hope it will prove the scene of a pleasant inti- 
macy,” said the Countess, with calm courtesy. “ My hus- 
band has, I believe, already pledged our mutual amity 
Herr Reisse. Is it not so, Alexis ? ” 

“Undoubtedly,” replied the Count, “and I must leave 
you this instant to develop it. I am sorry, Reisse, but Bis- 


JANUS, 


57 

choff (my land-steward and, at present, an inexorable tyrant) 
threatened me with all sorts of vengeance if I did not get 
back to him within the half-hour. I don’t intend to begin 
using ceremony with you, my dear fellow j I shall leave you 
at once, and in much better company. Farewell until 
luncheon. Adieu, Nadine ; play the courteous chatelaine. 
Talk music. I go to talk — drains.” 

He turned to quit the summer-house. His wife hastily fol- 
lowed him. You will not leave us so soon to-day, Alexis ? ” 
she exclaimed, somewhat appealingl3\ ‘‘Do you know, 
I have scarcely seen you these last two days ? My hus- 
band,” she added, apologetically, to Moritz, “is, during the 
present summer, more a stranger to his wife, I fear, than to 
our few guests. Can you not just spare us a single hour 
this morning, Alexis?” 

“ Not a single hour of this morning above all others ; 
nor, indeed, any until this accursed new ditching system 
proves a success or a failure. I am a farmer, Reisse. 
From now until August I shall be a hard-worked one, too. 
No — I must be off this minute.” 

“ Even though I bar your passage ? ” said the Countess, 
in a tone divided between banter and entreaty. 

She took her hand from his shoulder. Facing him, 
smiling, she stretched out her arms from pillar to pillar oL 
the narrow entrance to the kiosk. Alexis, in a sudden 
impulsiveness rare with him, leaned to her upturned face. 
He lightly kissed her. Was it fancy, or did she flush and 
shrink a little from his caress ? Her husband vaulted 
lightly over the low rail. He stood laughing outside upon 
the turf. “ To your mutual satisfaction in one another’s 
society, my friends, between now andluncheoiio Begin to 
rave about allegro and adagio con sentimento and maestoso 
as soon as you like,” he said. Then he disappeared down 
a path to the Lodge, whistling a street tune vigorously. 


68 


JANUa. 


CHAPTER VI. 

‘My lord, I must confess I know this woman ; 

And five years since, there was some speech of marriage 
Betwixt myself and her, which was broke off. 

Measure for Measure, 

Alexis von Gravenhorst left behind a tableau wbicb, 
if he had turned his head and understood it, might have 
made that light-hearted young man cease whistling and 
step less buoyantly onward toward bis land-steward’s cot* 
tage. 

Moritz stood where he had paused on entering the little 
kiosk. Moritz also was now pale, and he bit his lip in em- 
barrassment. The Countess von Gravenhorst, after follow- 
ing her stalwart husband with her ej^es, turned from 
the door and walked to the opj^osite side of the little 
building. There she, too, stood as one alone by herself, 
almost with her back to IMoritz, looking out over the 
landscape below. Neither spoke, nor seemed to notice the 
absence of speech. From the first second in which Moritz 
bad entered the place and had recognized his friend’s 
wife, he had felt as if all that world below them had 
dropped down into space beneath, and left himself and 
this woman solitary and alone. He had felt as if the world 
had indeed, for him, come to an end. Or, might it not 
rather be just again beginning ? 

Slowly the Countess turned toward him, steadying her- 
self against the parapet. Effort at suppressing the real 
selves of these two persons, united here by a hardly remote 
past, was ended. 


JAYUS. 


59 


So, it is you ? ” said she, bitterly. 

I — myself. And this is also — you ? replied Moritz, 
looking up at her. His voice again sounded so unlike an 
utterance from his own lips that he could scarcely realize 
that the words were his own. After these jmars, it seems, 
we meet to-day ? — here and under such circumstances ? 
Why have you not forewarned me, prevented it ? he 
continued, passionately. “Ho you suppose that had I for 
an instant suspected in the wife of my friend Alexis von 
Gravenhorst the woman whom I knew as Nadine von 
Lillienberg, I should have set my foot in this unhappy 
spot ? On your head, on your head alone, be the blame 
for this miserable rencontre.^^ 

“ On my head alone, Moritz,” replied the Countess, 
with a mingled accent of bitterness and pathos ; “ and 
upon yours the discourtesy of such a greeting. Have I, 
then,” she continued, sadly, “become in truth such a 
thing of aversion in your eyes that your first words now to 
me are of scorn and reproach ? ” 

“ Is there, then, anything due from me to you except 
scorn and reproach?” he returned. “Yet stay — I forget 
that I stand in the presence of a Countess von Graven- 
horst. One question before any other. Hoes your hus- 
band, does Alexis, dream — ? ” 

“ God forbid ! ” exclaimed the Countess ; “ through you 
alone can suspicion now enter his careless heart !. What has 
been between us is still our secret. No, thank God ! ” she 
added, clasping her fingers together with a sudden nervous 
gesture. 

“And I am his guest, his friend,” cried Moritz, “bidden 
here to pass weeks at liis side, at yours — beneath the same 
roof and in hourly intercourse ! And you have suffered it 
to come about without a word ! ” 


60 


JANUS. 


She looked gravely at him as he ,spoke thus hotly. You 
mistake/^ said she ; “ I did indeed learn of your coming, 
but not until too late, without arousing suspicion, to oppose 
it.” Suspicion ! He, the most utterly unsuspecting of all 
mankind ; blind in his confidence in his wife, in his obe- 
dience to her lightest request ! — “I — 1 have been a 
coward. Oppose ? There are a thousand reasons, besides 
those known to you, why for worlds I now would not dare 
do it.” 

And he has never mentioned my name to you until 
lately ? He has never till lately spoken of our acquaintance 
in Munich? Good heavens, were you not in the theatre 
that night of the ^ Prinz Max ^ ? ” 

Alexis rarely alludes to any of the associations of his 
bohemian days,” the Countess replied, with the faintest 
tinge of a sneer in her voice. As for the theatre, I was 
indeed there. I saw you — I rejoiced in your triumph. 
But Alexis had not uttered a word to me of his really and 
definitely inviting you hither. I avoided your sight — the 
next day I quitted the town. You see,” she continued, with 
a smile of cold irony, “ I have not decoyed you to ray 
presence, as your words would seem to imply. It is a 
simple coup de la destinee^ Moritz. Do you indeed actually 
suppose,” moving, with this, a step toward him, and with 
warming voice, ^^that I so hunger and thirst, after years 
of absence, for the society of a man who parted from 
me, whom I see meeting me again in this hour with 
hatred and contempt, that I, I scheme and plot and 
plan to bring him once more before my face when at my 
side stands — a husband? Upon my word you are very 
complimentary to yourself, Moritz! — far less so lo me.” 

Moritz winced under this frankly-expressed divination of 
his real suspicion that not without some design on the part 


JANUS. 


61 


of Countess Isadine herself had this situation come about. 
He replied coldly, “ You are right ! Your regaid for mOj 
of old, would indeed scarcely forebode such an effort to-day. 
Before, however, we enter upon the question of what 
either of us shall do under these unforeseen circumstances, 
will you be good enough to explain to me how it is that 
Kadine von Lillienberg and the Countess von Gravenhorst 
have become one and the same person ? I confess to a 
vulgar curiosity to learn the steps by which you have 
achieved so brilliant a position — one, I may add, so thor- 
oughly suited to my recollections of your ambitions and 
tasteso Nadine von Gravenhorst— -Nadine Berinski Na- 
dine — strange I did not feel some presentiment ! Yet the 
name is common/’ 

Her face flushed. If you desire an autobiography at 
once, the sooner the background of affairs is sketched the 
better. I can give it very briefly, too j it may avoid cate- 
chism — which I do not especially affect. Be good enough 
to sit there/’ She pointed to a rustic seat near the round 
table ard drew her easel-stool towards her. am tired 
and, I dare say, excited. I need all my little strength.” 

The table between them, strewn with brushes and colors, 
suggested a barricade. Moritz seated himself. 

“ Lieschen — you recall her, don’t you ? — poor, faithful creat- 
ure I she died in Vienna within that year — Lieschen gave 
you the letter that I wrote you that last night in Milan, in 
which I told you the truth : that I was — not worthy of you ; 
that I dared not blend your future and mine. Moritz, — if 
any man dreams what it costs a woman to — ” She paused ; 
then resumed : 

^^My father ard I remained in Turin a few days only. 
That he had some knowledge of our plan I am fairly con- 
vinced, although he made no direct allusion to it while we 
remained in Turin. AW at once he said, ‘ We must leave 


62 


jAyus. 


here. Be prepared. We shall not return.^ Within three 
hours truly, we were out of the city. We went direct 
to Paris. My father scarcely uttered a syllable to me 
during the journey. We spent a week in Paris. At the end 
of it he brusquely informed me that he had decided upon 
returning to Vienna without loss of time. I gathered, of 
course, that his play had been as unfortunate as during those 
last weeks in Turin ; that he felt himself forced to go. We 
arrived in Vienna upon the third day — home again. As I sat 
in my desolate room in the evening, attempting to realize 
all that had so lately occurred, my heart battling fiercely 
with my judgment, Moritz, my father came in abruptly. 
He dismissed my maid. Leaning against the chimney-piece 
he said, ^ You are once more in your own city. I have no 
wish, I assure you, by word, look, or sign, to allude to 
past follies. Chill your heart to like forgetfulness. I 
believe you have wisely begun to do that already. Ho 
rumor of what has occurred need follow us. I have guarded 
against that. Be obedient henceforth. You are forgiven. 
I have still influence enough here, I believe, to marry you 
advantageously. You have your beauty — your wit — your- 
self. Marry you as speedil}’- as I can, I certainly shall, I 
warn you. What I had in train in Milan as to the matter 
might have been successful had not your composer-lover 
and my untoward luck together — but no matter. There 
are eligible strangers, too, in town, of my acquaintance, 
even now. A project has already presented itself to me. All 
I say to you is — obey — forget. Treat your heart like a 
slate under a wet sponge. Do you understand ? You know 
the alternatives.^ I bowed my head in silence. Had I not 
sacrified my everything in life already ? — believe it, Moritz, 
or not, as you will.’^ The speaker added this, observing the 
incredulous curl of his lip. So far as I could. I obeyed. 


JANUS. 


63 


I returned that season to society. My father’s affairs 
eeemed to he temporarily on a better footing. As he 
had prophesied, no breath from afar, of those days 
in Milan, ever reached my old circle in Vienna, that 
I could become aware of. In less than two months 
he presented to me Leo von Berinski, a young Polish 
noble of wealth, spending the year in Vienna ; presented 
him as a suitor. I accepted him without hesitation, in 
obedience to my promise, my orders. All men were now 
alike to me. The romance of my life was ended forever. 
Berinski was amiable, polite, of position at Warsaw. His 
mother became passionately attracted to me. The prepara- 
tions for my wedding advanced. My very toilettes were 
completed. Then Berinski was killed — shot dead, murder- 
ously, in a duel with a Viennese over a gaming-table ac- 
cusation. My father was terribly involved in the affair. 
It should, I afterwards learned, have been his quarrel. The 
Princess Berinski never suspected that. But a disgraceful 
scandal burst out. My father W'as ruined. Hitherto his 
practices had escaped exposure. Within three days after 
his expected son-in-law’s death my father, too, died. He 
died by his own hand, in his own house — ” 

What ! ” exclaimed Moritz, in horror, raising his eyes 
from the floor, where they had been fixed during this 
recital. Your father dead ? ” 

Head,” returned the Countess von Grravenhorst, in the 
unmoved tone of one who narrates a history as to which 
all emotion in the teller’s heart is spent — a suicide, four 
years ago in October. I need not tell you in what confusion 
his affairs were left. Nothing would remain for me. In 
my perplexity I found I had one true, if new, friend the 

widowed and now childless old Princess Berinski. ^Come,^ 

said she to me ; ^ quit this wretched city of your father’s 


C4 


JANUS. 


dishonored name and of your ruined fortunes. The sins 
of the parent shall not be visited on your head, so far as I 
am concerned. I had begun to love you already as my 
daughter-in-law. Be my daughter, my child, in place of 
the one I have just lost, and in place of his sister Kadine^ 
who died before him.^ 

With Princess Berinski I accordingly turned my back 
on Vienna. 1 have never set foot there since. I lived 
very quietly with my kind adopted parent in Warsaw. I 
even assumed her name at length and at her request, 
striving to bury more completely l^^adine von Lillienberg 
in Nadine Berinski, One year later Alexis von Graven- 
horst met me and loved me. The Princess herself (she 
died a month after our marriage) eagerly desired the match. 
She expatiated on the advantages of it. I had no good 
reason to refuse it. Passion, love, the happiness of mar- 
ried life were, I knew, destined to be forever empty words 
to me. Why not Count von Gravenhorst as well as some 
other ? Stay, I divine jmur question ! One thing I did 
first. I insisted that before I stood at the altar with him 
my personal history should be laid plainly before him. 
Some fragments of it he must of course have gathered here 
and there from other sources. I had an interview with my 
future husband. I told Alexis all, all — except the history of 
the months in Milan, my meeting with you there, your name. 
The sacred mystery of — of those days I had locked up in my 
heart forever. My bitter story ended, Alexis clasped me in 
his arms. ^ To make you forget the past shall be the 
work of my future 1 ^ he cried. He has kept his vow. 
Everything that mortal man could do to render wife happy 
has he done. Never an allusion to my past escapes his 
lips, his look. I married him. The rest you can supply.’* 


JANUS. 


65 


CHAPTEK YII. 


“ She doth well ; if she should make tender of her love, tis very 
possible he’ll scorn it.’* 


Much Ado About Nothing. 


Durd^g the whole of this narrative given him, first and 
last, in the same colorless tone, Moritz Keisse sat almost 
motionless, his head resting on his palm, his elbows on 
the table, his eyes still fixed on the floor. When the 
Countess concluded, for an instant there was no sound. He 
looked up. 

You married him,’' he repeated, ^^and the rest I can 
supply ? That means, doubtless, that you are very happy 
—and that you love him — of course.” 

That should indeed mean that I am very happy, Moritz, 
and that I love him, of course,” the Countess replied, with 
a bitter smile and a curious inflection of voice. 

Thank jmu,” he said, coldly. “ Your history is a 
positive romance.” 

Eomance ! ” she exclaimed ; a romance ! All your 
sympathy then is expressed in that word ? Ah, Moritz ” — 
and rising from her seat she extended her slender hand 
with a gesture almost of appeal — “ had I four years ago in 
Milan kept faith that night, consented to fly with you and 
become your wife — had I allowed myself to cloud with my 
own uncertain lot your career, dare you say now wheth- 
er through you the story I have just told would be any 
fairer? Would not you yourself surely, as I then told you, 
have been dragged down into obscurity, with ill -fortune, 


66 


JANUS. 


nay, perhaps disgrace? Would not you yourself have played 
some miserable, helpless part in it, to your own ruin ? In- 
stead,” she added, bitterly, “ you stand here perfectly free, 
untrammelled by it, to hear from my own lips the result 
of my sacrifice ! You tell me by your every look and ac- 
cent that you recognize in it the chastisement due me for 
then sending you and love from me forever.” 

I look kindly upon your griefs and misfortunes ? ” 
exclaimed Moritz ; I discern in them a punishment ? 
Heaven forbid ! Nevertheless,” he added, relapsing into 
his former cold manner, let me, since you yourself speak 
of some unfortunate hours of our acquaintance, declare 
(and I trust for the last time) my opinion as to the motives 
for what you are pleased still to call your sacrifice. Would 
you still have me believe that you banished me from you 
that night in Milan because you were unwilling to cloud 
my life with your own ? — because of your unhappy father 
and your duty to him ? Ah, w^hy not here and now, in 
perhaps our last interview, confess the truth ? Your pride 
was greater than your love, then and always. You had 
long known of your father’s ambitious intentions for you. 
You had long seconded them. You fully understood what 
might be brought to pass. I met you. For a brief while 
you forgot in me your perpetual longings for a divorce from 
that wretchedly hazardous career and position inseparable 
from your companionship with your father. Y’ou forgot 
your vow, so accordant with his hopes, of a marriage which 
should enthrone you safely above all tides of fate in a 
social empire. Your heart spoke loudly for me. But I was 
merely a musician, the fashion of the hour. I had neither 
rank nor established fortune ; I had hardly a name. At 
the last moment your ambition overcame your passion. 
You could not face the uncertain future. Your love bowed 


JANUS. 


67 


before the test. hTot it, but your pride impelled you to 
drive me from you.’’ 

“What!” exclaimed the Countess, a sudden passion 
trembling in her voice, “dare you in memory of those days 
and nights that were ours, affirm that I did not love you ? ” 

“ You loved me, yes,” he answered coldly, “ — but not 
enough. But not enough.” 

There was again a short silence. The accusation, true 
or false, echoed in both hearts. “ Well, come,” Moritz re- 
sumed, abruptly ; “ why speak of what has been long dead ? 
This present situation is enough to occupy us. There is 
but one thing for me to do. I must leave Gravenhorst at 
once.” 

“Leave Gravenhorst ! You cannot, you must not!” 
exclaimed the Countess, betraying her alarm. If she had 
resolved to compass any certain scheme in having her old 
love again at her side, she had now to play her cards with 
skill, or they would avail her nothing. “ Have you not 
come here for the summer ? — with the understanding that 
you were to remain weeks ? A sudden departure, the 
absence of suitable excuse — this alone would arouse a thou- 
sand surmises in his mind.” 

“ A suitable excuse must be found,” returned Moritz,, 
composedly. “ Do not be alarmed. 1 possess ordinary- 

discretion. I shall not return to B this afternoon. 

Yet, granting that I should think of so doing, is it not 
far better that Alexis should imagine something, should 
question you, learn a little, nay, all of the truth now, than 
later, when I shall have been here for even a single week ? ” 

The Countess turned her face from him and said. I 
am unable to follow you there.” 

Moritz continued. 

“Tell him to-day the story of those days in Milan, whereia 


68 


JANUS, 


I. Ill's friend, was an antor. Is there anything that can 
mar his faith in you ? I was once your lover. You 
cared for me. Our love was opposed by your father. He 
dismissed my suit. You, in time, conquered and forgot your 
passion. What else says the record of those days, all told ? 
And there are reasons why any woman may keep hack such 
a secret of her past from the man she marries. But, on the 
other hand, let me, let any man whom you might admit that 
you once loved, remain here under your roof a fortnight. 
Let two persons he thrown together so inexorably as (cannot 
you see it from your husband’s own words ?) you and I are 
likely to be ! In after months or years, some wandering 
chance brings this long-hidden chapter to his ears — I 
wonder that in spite of your retiredlife it has so long been 
unsuspected. Who, who, can tell what doubts, or worse, 
may attack his heart ? How can his recollection of the 
life his wife and his friend led here together, and of the 
strange comedy we two must have acted, escape the taint 
of poison ? I know Alexis perhaps better than you do. 
Whatever he seems now, in such an hour I tremble for him 
and for you ! ” 

Your prophecy is disinterested, but it is absurd,” the 
Countess answered, with that mockery of accent which 
seemed now to have transferred itself from her former 
lover to herself. Neither do you, I see, know my hus- 
band. Alexis is not a man to insult his wife with idle 
suspicions, born of trifles, at any time — present or 
future, I am sorry that your acquaintance with his 
character as it was, jmur penetration of it as it is, enables 
you to read it no more intelligently, Furthermore, you 
speak of a possible comedy to be played should jmu accept 
the hospitalities of Gravenhorst Lodge for a fortnight or 
so j of roles to be sustained by you, by myself. Comedies - 


JANUS. 


69 


roles ? Moritz, I know of none ! I shall certainly assume 
none ! It need give neither of us the slightest embarrass- 
ment to he thrown together, as you call it — in his presence 
or out of it. My friend, jmu and I who speak thus are 
well-nigh strangers. Eemeraher that. You are simply an 
entertaining guest — I, your hostess. There is abundance 
of employment, topics enough in common between us to 
spare us the doleful amusement of awakening in our hearts 
one echo of the past. That past is dead to you, to me. 
The Moritz Keisse I once knew and loved — for love him I 
did,’^ she added, firmly, ‘‘ is dead. I now verily believe it. 
The Kadine von Liliienberg of your memory ? Dead 
likewise. Or let us say that neither has ever existed. 
They have been dreams of youth and warm fancy. What 
more could we wish ? ’’ 

“But will they be dead always? Will they not stir, 
awake, rise up to life in some unexpected instant ? 
Moritz had spoken before he thought. 

“ A resurrection like that ? ” the Countess queried, 
slightly smiling and raising her perfect-arched eyebrows. 

And which one, pray, is likely first to be guilty of so 
indiscreet a liberty 2 Better still — in place of utter in- 
difference within ds, let it be that you are yourself, I am 
myself. That you despise me, and that I have ceased to 
admire you. Ah, Moritz,’’ the Countess added, smiling a 
little less ironically, and speaking somewhat more in her 
natural voice, “might not we two in truth be said to stand 
in this moment on the best terms on which to begin a — 
friendship, as friendship in this world often goes — we have 
not an atom of favorable prejudice toward one another?” 

“Quite true — but even hatred implies mutual respect,” 
responded Moritz. 

“ And I have lost yours ? ” she answered. 


70 


JANUS, 


She turned her head from him and looked again at the 
plains and the horizon. He saw a faint rose-tint come 
into her white face at the taunt. Her eyes seemed full of 
tears. In an instant his whole heart stirred within him* 
The tenderness of a man’s nature for the past, suddenly 
brought up in battle-array against his judgment and pride, 
the sight of the woman around whom that past had 
centred standing there in humiliation at his words ; the 
mute reproach and pathos of her apparently involuntary 
emotion — these together seduced him from his position 
more irresistibly than any argument would have done* 
He looked at her. He then drew a step nearer to her in 
sudden confusion and remorse, or in the first pulsations of 
another nameless feeling. Hadine von Gravenhorst did 
not turn her head, although she probably realized every 
motion that he made, and was conscious of each ex- 
pression passing over his face. She felt a quick assurance 
that all went as she desired, and that tears, however 
called into her ej es, had won for her a first victory — the 
victory, old as the earth, of woman’s magnetism over 
man’s convictions. 

^^Nadine,” Moritz exclaimed, softly, am wrong ! I 
have been cruel. Forgive these words I have so hastily 
spoken. We have indeed too much with which to reproach 
our destinies to feel bitterness against one another. Have 
not you, have not I, done penance for any mutual 
errors ? ” 

The Countess turned toward him; her eyes met his- 
own with a grave, unfathomable gaze. He continued, 
However soon I must leave you — and when I do it will 
probably be never to meet again — let us part in peace. 
Nay, more ; let me say adieu as, in some sense, your friend* 


JANUS. 71 

In the recollection of what once was, I could not be other- 
wise/’ 

A- glow lighted up the Countess’s face with each word. 
A transforming expression stole over it. ^^Your friend?” 
she repeated, in an accent of doubt. The word I spoke 
in mockery, he repeats seriously ! Friendship between us, 
Moritz ? Do not describe in jest what is impossible !” 

His long resentment, the scorn of years — whither had 
both fled ? A few words, a look from her, had proved how 
false had these emotions been and how enduring any ten- 
derness beneath. When we truly love we never can un- 
love? Certainly Moritz Keisse had once loved her with all 
the intensity of his passionate nature. Had something 
more than the romantic sentiment for the love-dream of 
his life persistently tenanted his heart even until this 
hour ? 

It is not impossible for me,” he replied, almost passion- 
ately. ‘^It must not now be impossible for you. Let us 
bury our dead selves. You have wisely called them such. 
With them are dead their errors, their follies, their faults. 
In spite of such, are not the dead remembered with kind- 
ness, and forgiven ? Let it be so.” 

He held out his hand as he spoke. The Countess glanced 
down at the extended hand. Who can tell what triumph, 
the realization of dreams, the fulfillment of vows sworn 
within herself, she saw in this first step gained ? 

With the smile and the frank gesture of a child she took 
his hand. Yes, friends — new friends, Moritz,” she ex- 
claimed, ^^and all our bitterness and anger and other 
tragedy-playing ended forever ! Willingly, willingly !” 

A pressure, and the clasped hands parted. Relief and 
lightness came to Moritz's heart. 

And you will not fly from Gravenhorst as if I were a 


72 


JANUS. 


basilisk?” she inquired, with graceful gayety. Moritz hesb 
tated. The inconsistency of suddenly altering his an- 
nounced decision struck him far more than the first faint 
birth of positive reluctance to go. He temporized with 
himself. 

I had best return to B as soon as practicable. 

But for some days I will gladly be a guest at Gravenhorst. 
Besides,” he added, an opera libretto is to be forwarded 
to me here j I shall be obliged to busy myself more or less 
with that.” 

Idle or occupied you will be the w'elcomest of friends,” 
replied the Countess. Glancing at her watch, she added, 

And now for Alexis and luncheon.” 

She gathered up a few of her belongings on the 
table. The two quitted the kiosk together. They walked 
down the sinuous pathway. Nadine began eagerly to 
question him concerning the events of latter years and his 
musical successes. He found himself talking with her much 
in the old fashion. The memories of their common past 
constantly awoke. Nadine began diplomatically to as- 
sure herself that no other woman had come to be to Moritz 
Beisse what she had been. She was even able to satisfy 
herself that there was no warmer feeling between himself 
and the young singer, Fraulein Elsa Ehlert, than a certain 
sympathetic acquaintance although of a character which she 
could not fully define. On this point, however, Beisse was 
then and afterwards shyly diflBcult of approach. 

The longer Moritz chatted thus without embarrassment 
with Nadine, the more the scene of a little while earlier 
seemed to him ridiculous and unnecessary. There was no 
reason w'hy this pleasant, frank treaty of peace might not 
have been made, almost tacitly, at once. He had been a 
fool, he said to himself ; possibly an unjust fool. 


JANUS. 


75 


As many another man of his temperament might have 
done, Moritz did not now stop to ask himself whether 
reconciliation had altered the original causes of discord in 
any degree. He did not stop to remember that overlook- 
ing them was not removing them, nor reflect that a comedy, 
unavoidable and of most problematic results, still remained 
to be sustained as to friend and host. He did not discerji 
how anomalous was this situation which he accepted so 
easily and with such increasing satisfaction — that it must 
certainly bring forth difficulties. He was soothed, lapped 
by the charm which Nadine was already beginning to exert 
with every word, look, and gesture. Underneath, danger- 
ous still was the presence of his own undreamed-of passion. 
It is no uncommon state to fall into, nor likely to be, so 
long as women inhabit the earth, and to some are given 
the spell for the binding and unloosing of the judgments 
of men. 

As he walked at her side slowly across the garden, 
Moritz could not but compare Nadine with her former self. 
Unmistakably, her beauty had developed, her graces of 
speech and manner doubled. Our saunterers reached the 
porch. Moritz parted from the Countess at the staircase, 
and went up to his chamber with a valet. There he re* 
mained until Alexis’s hospitable self summoned him down- 
stairs to luncheon. 


74 


JANUS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“ Arm thy constant and thy nobler parts 
Against these giddy, loose suggestions.” 

King John. 

A WEEK slipped away almost before he was aware of it. 
He was still a guest at the Lodge. Each night of the seven 
he went to his bed saying to himself that the next day 
must be, under one excuse or another, his last beneath Von 
Gravenhorst’s roof. Each morning he awaked feeling a 
lazier reluctance to put his resolution into effect, and 
losing sight more and more of the need of its performance. 
This feeling increased just in proportion as the awkward 
corners of the situation seemed to smooth themselves down. 
He met the Countess without embarrassment. Her tact 
and insight came constantly into action. Contrary to his 
expectations, he saw his hostess chiefly in her husband’s 
presence. Alexis was temporarily freer from his agricul- 
tural cares. 

It was true that Moritz and Nadine talked of art, of a 
thousand topics in which each knew the other was interested. 
Yet, if some well-remembered opinion, some favorite senti- 
ment recalled from the past (and it may be readily imagined 
that there were many) flashed into Moritz’s mind, the wife 
of Alexis seemed absolutely dull to them. Was it that 
she now veritably was capable of only a pleasant artistic 
friendship with a former lover ? Had she become truly quite 
indifferent to the sentimental relations of a few years be- 
fore ? Or was her conduct in pursuance of an ulterior end, 


JANUS. 


75 


to accomplish which a present conservatism was every- 
thing ? 

If the latter, not the unguarded lifting of an eyelash be- 
trayed her. She was serene and hospitable. She exerted all 
her gifts, as should any well-educated woman of the world, 
of fine artistic perceptions and training, in the presence of 
her husband’s old friend. Alexis was charmed to see bis 
wife appear to such advantage. 

It happened that this particular fortnight at the Lodge 
brought an unwonted number of daylight or evening callers 
and visitors. Three or four neighbors of Count Alexis, the 
Waldemars, the Linds, Baron This or General So-and-so, 
with their wives and daughters, tardy in paying formal re- 
spects for the season, drove over, by twos and threes, of an 
afternoon. They sauntered in parties with their hospitable 
entertainers about the grounds, and, other callers perhaps 
driving up, remained for an impromptu supper-party and 
a lively evening. The piano for the music-room had not 
yet afrived from Berlin, a small but excellent harmonium 
occupying the apartment. Meantime, no music was at- 
tempted. Overflowing shelves in the music-room satisfied 
Moritz that a voice, once matchless for its charm, was still 
cultivated ; but neither the solicitations of her husband or 
her friends induced the Countess to sing with such accom- 
paniment as was practicable. 

On one evening in particular the party, five or six in 
number, were seated upon the great front piazza of the 
Lodge. The young son of a friend, present with his father, 
brought a violin from the music-room and played tastefully 
during the pauses of the conversation. Chancing to hit 
upon the melody of a favorite song, again came entreaties 
for the Countess to sing under such romantic circum^ 
stances. She parried all. 


76 


JANUS. 


Not even a "ballad ? ” Moritz asked. He involuntarily 
added in a low voice, “Am I never to hear you sing once 
more ? 

“Not to-jiight, HerrKeisse,” Nadine replied aloud. “It is 
impossible for me to sing without my pianoforte. As soon as 
that arrives I will try to make amends for my discourtesy.^^ 
Then, as if yielding to a sudden impulse, she took advan- 
tage of a stir among the rest. She turned her face to- 
wards Moritz and said swiftly, “My voice is not yet 
sufficiently eloquent to please me. It will be soon. Wait.’* 

She resumed her bantering with a gentleman on her left. 
Moritz scarcely caught the remark. In trying to recall 
it he could make nothing of it. 

A second week succeeded. The more our hero was 
thrown thus into her companionship the more the old charm 
began to assert itself. The power of her will hound him. 
He began to long to identity the woman he had known 
once with this one that he knew now. How much of the 
passionate nature still existed underneath any envelope ? 
He was piqued that the Countess should have dismissed 
him from her heart so arbitrarily. 

The next step was natural. When for a brief hour 
Moritz found himself alone with her, he began deliberately 
to tread upon the forbidden ground. He began to break 
the treaty hitherto maintained between them. 

Nadine at once discouraged any such tendency on his 
part. This irritated him. His irritation was wrong. He 
knew it. He said to himself that he certainly did not 
wish for the love of Nadine von Gravenhorst to-day. God 
forbid! Was she not his friend’s wife ? Was not he himself 
quite recovered from his unhappy weakness ? But surely a 
decent sensibility toward even a dead passion was expected 
of any woman, peasant or princess, married or single ! 


JANUS. 


77 


Nadine certainly gave every indication of the most com- 
plete insensibility. She showed all the frankness of a 
friend; but let Moritz once attempt by so much as a glance 
to suggest to her circumstances which had linked them in 
other days, heart to heart, he did not receive even the honor 
of rebuke. He was ignored. That Nadine might be pre- 
paring for a more unreserved laissez alter when the time 
was ripe, and one with less tangible fault to herself, Moritz 
of course did not reflect. He was not good at reading 
women of this type. He was too easily read by them. If 

there was any struggle by the Countess, any effort in her 

self-control, or anxiety as to a plan, nothing of them 
appeared. 

Possibly she went farther in the delicate development of 
her design than she had intended. By the end of his 
second lingering week at Gravenliorst Lodge, Moritz Peisse 
became wearied at the futility of these skirmishings — no, 
they were not even that. He began to give himself lec- 
tures and to ask himself just what he had been about. 

He would leave Gravenhorst at once, glad he could do so 
at peace with his friend and his own conscience. Thence- 
forth his secret with hex need never disturb the tranquillity 
of the three persons concerned. He even began to make 
flattering speeches to his conscience, and to feel that he 
was possessor of a good stock of the right Spartan honor. 
Very small opportunity had there been for him to exercise 
Spartan or any other kind of honor — but he did not happen 
to notice that. 

I must leave you on Monday, Alexis,” he announced, 
one morning after the mail had come. My plans for a 
stay with you are all overturned. I must go to Berlin.’^ 

Away with your business ! ” replied Alexis. Indeed 
you will not 1 DonT trouble yourself to explain things 


78 


JANUS. 


again. Didn^t you promise me several weeks at least ? 
Come ! 

Moritz repeated some tolerable excuses. Alexis disputed 
them. Moritz remained obstinate. Go he would. Alexis 
quitted the room a good deal disgusted, Nadine, who had 
taken only a formal share in the argument, rose from the 
table. The door closed behind Alexis. The servant was in 
the next room. She approached Reisse, He raised his 
ej^es. She was standing before him. You must not go. 
I cannot spare you forever — yet,’^ she said. 

Before he could recover from his confusion at her change 
of manner, at the accent of command in her voice, which 
seemed to reveal all that old personality hitherto so re- 
pressed, Nadine had left him. 

He sat motionless. He had been blind. She still 
thought of him with more than only dispassionate regard ! 
In his bewilderment he forgot that this would be the 
worst of evils. His relations to his friend, his honor, all 
that might hold his spirit in check grew clouded before 
him. 

There was no painting in the kiosk that morning. At 
luncheon he did not see Nadine ; she had a slight head- 
ache, Alexis said. A long drive with the Count consumed 
the afternoon. Moritz felt an anticipatory something 
almost like guilt as he listened abstractedly to his friend’s 
talk. Now he heard nothing but an echo, repeating 
pathetically — You must not go — I cannot spare you — 
forever-^yet.” 

When Alexis and he returned, an agreeable surprise 
awaited them. The new grand pianoforte had come, and 
was already in its place. Hurrah ! ” cried Alexis, gaily \ 
we will have its christening to-night, Reisse ! I shall 
notify Nadine.” 


JANUS. 


79 


They separated until dinner. Moritz, left to his own 
devices, sat at the piano alone a little while and then went 
up to his own room. 

There, free to continue undisturbed his turbulent reflec- 
tions, he sat down by the open window. Something 
seemed crying out to him, A crisis is at hand. Fly, or 
you are lost ! He began to admit to himself that it would 
not be unendurable to be lost. And while he sat there, 
the enchanting landscape extending before his eyes that 
had been first unfolded to them in the kiosk on the hill, 
his heart oppressed by a thousand questions as to Kadine 
and his honor as man and friend — in his memory was unrolled 
another and very different panorama, reviewed many times 
before, yet never with such effect, because never recalled 
in an hour of such evil destiny. 

He beheld himself meeting Hadine von Lillienberg foi 
the first time at a dull soiree. He felt again the attraction 
which made her, in so brief a time, all in all to him. Once 
again was he hurrying with the step of a thief along a 
suburban road outside a moonlit city. Once again was he 
clambering over the broken wall of the Villa Fioraja, or 
stealing in by the seldom-used gate. His ears caught the 
rustle of leaves beneath her feet, as Nadine stole down the 
shadowy walk to the ruined arbor. Her hands met his 
with trembling greeting. At last you are here ! There 
had been the same cadence in her voice then that had this 
morning betrayed itself in those words, ^^You must not go 
— “I cannot spare you yet.” 

His heart began to beat faster. How had he been able 
to persuade himself that such remembrances no longer 
awoke a thrill ? — or in the bosom of this paler, prouder, 
but — it must be, it must be ! — so little altered Nadine von 
Lillienberg, or Gravenhorst Lodge ? 


80 


JANUS. 


All at once a fancy seized him. He rose and, crossing 
the room, brought to light, after some searching, a small 
olive-wood box which generally accompanied his journey- 
ingSo Various valuables were crowded within it — a few 
jewels and souvenirs, a decoration or two, and several 
packets of letters. From these last he hastily broke open a 
tiny, sealed-up group containing, perhaps, only a dozen all 
told. Not in years had he glanced through these, of all 
others. He had, indeed, sworn never to do so again. His 
face flushed, his breast heaved, his eyes filled with a 
strange tremulous light, as he read the few pages that 
Nadine hiad written him in those magical days. Ah, had 
she once seemed, aye, even seemed^ to love him thus ? 
Yonder sentence ! — that phrase ! Could her heart this 
afternoon be a palimpsest ? It was impossible. 

And yet there faced him the old question ! Why had 
she refused in that last, supreme hour to become his wife ? 
Oh, wretched conflicting problem that he had so often 
decided, but that in some way never remained decided ! 

It is not true that over the ashes of past fires of this 
sort we ever warm ourselves. We only burn our fingers. 
Unhappy Moritz ! In this hour he was less than ever a 
cool-brained philosopher to balance pro and con^ to hold 
to past convictions in the rush of new impulses. He was 
but the dreaming man of art to whom to wish a thing 
is sometimes to be all at once convinced of it. That half- 
hour with Nadine’s letters did him remediless mischief. 
For he put them away believing that he had until that 
hour misjudged her ! — cruelly ! She had loved him I Her 
generosity, her prudence, had alone withheld her from 
joining her fate to his. He had mocked at profound truth. 
He had sneered at a woman’s completest sacrifice. His 
angry accusation in the summer-house — ^^Your pride was 


JANUS, 


81 


greater than your love, then and always ! ” — made him 
blush. It was perhaps too late now to admit to her this 
remorse for the injustice of years ; hut, should opportunity 
come before he left, he swore that he would speako Last 
of all came once again the sound of her voice that morn- 
ing: You must not go, Moritz, I cannot spare you, for- 

ever — yet.’’ If she had enjoined upon herself such generous 
control until now, might she not — ? 

He uttered a cry as these new ideas beset him. So beset, 
everything that was good within him faded and shrivelled. 
He started up. It was drawing toward evening, for long he 
had been seated there, sunk in these reveries new and old, 
but all alike demoralizing. He made a hasty toilet for 
dinner and left the room quickly. 


S2 


JANUS. 


CHAPTER IX. 

“ .Music oft hath such a charm 
To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.” 

Measure for Measure, 

The shadows in the white hallway and in the garden had 
already caught the violet tinge of sunset. Moritz stepped 
out upon the piazza. The Countess stood at its further 
end. His eye, re-awakened to her beauty, marked the 
charm of the picture — her graceful figure, in one of her 
inevitable simply-made white dresses, her left hand filled 
with the dark-red roses which she leaned forward to cut 
from a spray beside the balustrade. The blending of 
white and crimson in the blossoms, her large eyes, which, 
notwithstanding the lightness of their hazel, were won- 
derfully luminous — the odd pallor by which her com- 
plexion was always distinguished from the tint of any 
other woman that Moritz Reisse had ever seen — about the 
entire personality of the Countess, as she turned toward 
him now, there lingered, as often before, a peculiar sugges- 
tion of dormant passion, waiting to be developed. She 
stood there like a clear, white apparition — a cameo against 
the green of the garden and the purplish sky. 

have been a negligent hostess,” she said, when he 
had reached her side ; “ I have left you solitary ail day ! 
A headache is a tyrant with me. I am glad that Alexis 
found some hours to spend with you. He is generally too 
engrossed with matters on the estate. What have you 
done ? Written a sonata or a symphony to beguile your 
solitude ? ” 


JANUG, 


■ > r* 

oO 

^^Keither,” he answered; thoughts have been dis. 
cords. One’s heart-strings cannot alwaj^s he kept in 
tune. A musician has his bad quarter of an hour oftener 
then the rest of the world.’^ 

^^With the consolation that it may give pleasure to 
others/’ returned the Countess, laughing. “A single fritter 
at dessert and a headache on the morning after an opera- 
supper have often been at the foundation of the most 
appealing sonata or moving romanza 

“To call indigestion inspiration is a slander worthy of 
Alexis.” 

“ A slander ? So be it. But,” she added, with more 
seriousness, “ let it be a slander born of envy — like most 
slanders. Heaven forbid, indeed, that I should disparage 
the privilege granted to your fellowship — you, who find 
relief from retrospect and prospect, in pursuing your 
art.” 

“ A relief ? Yes, Countess, but never an oblivion ! never 
a consolation for lost happiness — ” he hesitated and then 
added fiirmly, “ for lost love.” 

Had he yesterday ventured upon so bold a challenge 
{'and he had approached its like more than once) he would 
have been promptly repelled. To-day she gave him a 
quick glance of ready divination. Dropping her eyes im- 
mediately to the flowers, she said, slowly, “ No. A truly 
great love we do not forget, even at the command of duty, 
— of prudence.” 

She looked out over the garden. They stood in silence 
a moment. Some tardy bird, pausing in its nestward 
flight, began singing. It was the only interruption to the 
evening stillness. 

Why have you so persistently refused to sing for any 
of us this week ? ” he asked; “ piano or no piano, I think 


JANUS. 


you have made old Couusellor Otto an enemy for life by 
declining to attempt his ‘ Vorbei’ last Sunday night.” 

“ I thought I gave you my reason,” she returned, slowly. 
^‘You did not catch it perhaps. But, never mind; call it 
a whim, or what you will, the piano is here now. I have 
tried it this afternoon, and from this evening you shall have 
no occasion to complain of me. Almost the first night, — I 
have been despairing of one,” she added, carelessly, — “that 
we have been alone together — that is, with only Alexis 
besides ! A propos., my friend, do you know that I still 
sing at least two of the songs that you wrote for me ? that 
Polish love song that you set for me, and the ballad, ‘ Auf 
Wiedersehen ’ ? ” 

“ You flatter me,” said Moritz, in slight embarrassment. 

So she still linked herself to the love of the past by one 
of the strongest of ties — the music of the past. If that 
v-as what the Countess had desired him to gather from 
the trivial, but scarcely necessary, remark, she succeeded. 
“I dare say,” she continued, looking at him with a faint 
smile, “ that many another and sweeter voice has been heard 
in such music since — your charming friend, Praulein 
Ehlert of the Hoftheater, for instance.” 

“The songs that I wrote for you have not been heard 
from the lips of Fraulein Ehlert or any other woman 
except you,” Moritz replied, quickly. “ Do you think that 
I have no more heart, no more — ” He broke off, not 
trusting himself. 

“ You were ever gallant,” she said, lightly. 

“ Gallant ! ” he exclaimed. “Listen to me, pray, since 
you yourself have recalled days which it were well we 
could forget. Let me ask forgiveness for my errors.” 

Her face grew serious. She gave him a surprised 
glance, but did not forbid him to go on. 


JANUS. 


85 


I have been unjust and blind/’ Moritz continued, im- 
petuou-sly. “ I have come to my senses. Do not ask me 
under what influences ; indeed, I hardly know, myself. 
As I live, I swear that I believe that you were truest to 
me wdien I thought you falsest. I told ^mu that your 
])ride was greater than your love. Forgive me. I wronged 
you ; I feel it.” 

A smile, half of bitterness, half of mockery, came to her 
lips. 

You were pardoned long since, Moritz,” she answered, 
gentlj", “ if pardon can now be an^’-thing to jmu. And 
why vex your soul and mine with what has been put off, 
like garments wliose fashion no longer suits ? Have we 
not agreed that we have too heavy a rei^roach to lay upon 
destiny to think hardly of ourselves ? The past expiates 
itself. What burdens us, let it be our care to forget. 
Better still, if we can regard that love of yesterday as a 
jest over wliich friendship to-da3’-, however newlj’’ sworn, 
lias a legitimate right to make meriy.” 

Make merry ? ” he cried. ^^Not I, indeed ! Have not 
3mu jmurself said that to the memory of a true passion 
we never can become entirely indifferent ? Ko man — no 
woman, dare mock so holy a memory.” 

“^And do jmu then really believe, Moritz, that love is 
•ever a holy feeling ? Are we not merely divine animals, 
after all, and love a jiossible heritage, with so much else, 
from the quadrupeds ? You are shocked^ I see, at my 
cjuiicism. Ah, Moritz,” she exJaimed, ‘Oiave jmu jmt to 
learn that at what we dare not weep over we must laugh ? 
Come, a jest, a jest for friendship — behold our watchword ! 
We are agreed, are we not — as all sworn allies ought to 
be ? ” Her voice lost its iron^" for that deeper cadence wdth 
which so many women seem to begin, all at once, to speak 


30 JANUS. 

from their hearts. Be satisfied with me. It is too late 
for me ever to be satisfied with myself.’’ 

The voice of Alexis, as his friend appeared, saved Moritz 
the impulsive reply. He reddened at the sight of Alexis, 
who advanced down the piazza. 

Ha, ha I Here you both are, I declare,” he cried, gayly. 

Some experiments in progress on one of the farms had 
that day given signs of uncommon success. Gravenhorst 
was in enthusiastic spirits. He began at once to banter 
Moritz on the waste of time spent in writing an opera, 
compared with the value of bringing a field of cauliflowers 
to full perfection, until he finally was interrupted by 
Moritz’s satiric question, if he actually believed art did no 
good in the world ? 

It was not until the three were seated at the table in 
the great bow-windowed dining-room that Alexis answered 
the question. 

* What’s that you were saying about art doing any 
good . n the world ? ” he asked. “ It depends upon what 
you mean by ^ good ’ ? Do you ask whether I believe in 
a moral and intellectual good in your music ? Indeed I 
don’t. There never was a more utter absurdity.” 

<‘Or a more widespread one, then,” interrupted Nadine, 
glad of something to furnish talk. 

« Admitted,” replied Alexis— and an especial article of 
faith to your sex, Nadine. There is any quantity of peo- 
ple to-day who will endow music with a positively religious 
influence.” 

* Since the ensuing views of the Count von Gravenhorst in 
regard to the tendency of music and art in general were thus 
recorded, the present writer has had his attention called to an 
extract from an American critic’s brief discussion of the relations 
of art and ethics, in which, so far as music is concerned, like views 
with von Graveuhorst’s are more positively set forth. 


jANijrj, 


87 


And why shouldn't they ? ashed Moritz, hotly. 

Hasn’t it always been a powerful element in enlightened 
religion from the remotest period ? Is not its very exist 
ence and development partly the outgrowth of religion ? 
Has not the world as Romanist its masses and vespers, and 
as Protestant its chants and h^^mns.” 

“ Which, simply and solely as associated with the text, 
can be of any moral influence. You might as well play 
the scales up and down to all eternity and expect to trans- 
form human nature and evolve morality. The sublirnest 
mass does not inspire devotion, man. The noblest chorale 
does not amend the soul ! ” 

What do they bring about, then ? asked Moritz, 
laughing. 

Oh, a sensuous enjoyment, more or less acute *, a nerv- 
ous effect like to that of the drums and trumpets in the 
soldiers’ breasts on the battle-field. And, see here, my 
dear child of art,” continued von Gravenhorst; ^Gt has 
been said till the words are stale that your high-priests 
and priestesses of music, and those favored men and wo- 
men wRo live in the focus of art’s influence, ought to be 
superior in virtue and in every lofty trait of character. That 
is, if there be in the music, for example, an elevating 
moral principle. As you run over the list of the greater com- 
posers, it seems to one that there are altogether too many 
exceptions for anyone to try to prove the rule.” 

Has Palestrina’s music, Bach’s — Mozart’s— Beethoven’s 
—been surpassed ? ” retorted Moritz, and does the 
moralist find much to censure in their lives ? Here too, is 
your father’s old friend and your own, Herr Meyerbeer, 

Their art has nothing to do with it. In their cases, 
and many others, virtue, inborn or acquired, has been too 
stout to be sapped by the enervating enemy.” 


88 


JANUS. 


So you think an appreciative nature comes away from 
hearing a great symphony no better than if one never en- 
tered the concert-room ? said the Countess. 

A man may appreciate music as intensely as never be- 
fore, during that very performance, and be just as ready to 
pick your pocket as you come down the staircase. The- 
orchestra’s message cannot reinforce his morals.” 

And yet,” said the Countess, reflectively, sometimes 
one realizes in music a consolation, even a forgetfulness of 
grief. There is that much good in art, at least, whatever 
there is not.” 

That much good. But therein not a whit of moral good; 
and nothing more altogether than a certain emotional 
influence which affords one no enduring peace.” 

“ To a true musician, Alexis,” she rejoined, ^^we are told 
that there should be nothing for which art will not con- 
sole.” 

Reisse, will your conscience support you in that ? ” 
her husband laughed back. Oh, no, you needn’t an- 
swer.” 

A glance flashed between Moritz and Nadine. Twice 
within the hour had this same consolation of art been men- 
tioned. Had there been nothing for which his art and his 
success had not atoned ? Or was he no true musician ? 
Nadine’s eyes had asked his one of the two questions and 
read the reply. 

“ You say that art, music, are negative,” he said, turning 
to Alexis. Go further. Maintain that either one abso- 
lutely degrades.” 

Precisely,” Alexis answered, complacently. ‘^In re- 
gard to this vexed problem of music and morals, morals- 
and music, art and morals — to broaden it — the difficulty 
with the question is that, like a statue of Janus, it pre- 


JANUS. 


89 


sents two faces in a peculiarly uncompromising manner 
— an agreeable theory and a painful fact ; too few peo- 
ple who stand at one angle, and study and descant, will 
shift their ground and study the other aspect. But in all 
the history of civilization of the human species, art dominates 
and develops a people to destroy it. The philosophy of 
it is obscure. To many it appears to involve only a 
strange, cruel, insolvable paradox- Better let it rest so. 
Eh, Reisse ? ” 

Moritz laughed good-naturedly. The topic was about to 
change. But bTadine suddenly spoke. 

Let me submit a last question. Imagine a man who 
thoroughly knows right from wrong, and naturally appre- 
ciates the beauty of honor and goodness. Now, by nature, 
he is the keenest possible enjoyer of the beautiful, and a 
successful practical man of art, a painter, a musician— 
what you will. . Put him where only moral principle can 
make him keep his footing. Will the artist element in him 
weaken him for contest? Will he fall the sooner because 
of it ? I don’t ask if that side of his character, directly or 
indirectly, holds him up. Will it — drag him down ? ” 

She spoke slowly, choosing her words. Alexis moved 
back from the table. He laughed undisguisedly. 

“ You have sketched one of the most truly artistic or, 
rather, musical of temperaments, to borrow the cant 
phrase. I would not wager many rows of pins for its sta- 
bility.” 

My unlucky friend falls then ? ” Nadine asked, 
gravely. 

The more readily ; the deeper. Hequiescat in pace/* 
^^No,” exclaimed Nadine, ^‘not his epitaph yet ! I do 
not surrender him. He struggles manfully. The influ- 
ence of his art over his nature nobly assists him to 


90 


JANUS. 


triumph, because it is in its very purity a part of a pure 
nature.’’ 

Itequiescat in pace,^^ repeated Alexis, with solemn 
obstinacy. 

She looked up into her husband’s face and exclaimed, 
Are you not ashamed of yourself ?” 

Alexis smiled still more exasperatingly. Requi — es — 
he began again. 

She burst out into a sharp, cynical laugh of agreement. 
So be it ! Requiescat in pace / ” cried she. ‘‘ You will 
Lave it so. JSoyons amiSy CinnaP 
The three pushed back their chairs. 

Come to the music-room, Reisse,” cried the Count, 
There I shall belie my own lost appreciation of music by 
listening with pleasure while you and Nadine entertain 
an audience of one. What a pity we are like to have no 
guests this evening ! 

He led the way across the hall, his wife and his friend 
following. 


JANUS. 


91 


CHAPTEK X. 

I love you now; but not till now so much 
But I might master it.” 

Troilus and Cressida. 

As the three passed into the long drawing-room, with its 
dark rugs and heavy upholstery, Here is that odd effort 
of Xadine’s fancy that I spoke of the other afternoon,’’ 
Alexis said ; and he held the caixdles before a picture, arrest- 
ing their progress. I like it extremely,” he remarked. 

Moritz examined the small canvas, obscure in the in- 
different light. It represented a group of musicians, 
playing by candle-light a string-quartet. The chiaroscuro 
of their four faces in the interrupted light falling on them 
in a little room was excellently depicted. Moritz praised 
it warmly. 

There is a sort of companion-piece over in that al- 
cove,” remarked Alexis ; but the alcove is so dark that 
I have paid less attention to it, and I like this one as well. 
What did you finally call it, Nadine ? ” 

^^‘The Duet,’ ” the Countess answered, adding quickly : 

I will delay Herr Reisse to look at it, while you make the 
music-room a little brighter.” 

Her husband put one candle into her hand and walked 
away with the other. 

Thank you ; let me hold it,” she said, and guided Moritz 
to the alcove. This second picture, like its mate a small 
canvas, offered an even simpler musical scene. Moritz 
noticed merely a young man in the court dress of the last 
century, and his companion, a lady. The latter stood before 


92 


JANUS. 


a harpsichord, on which her cavalier was playing an accom- 
paniment to his own singing. But what at once struck 
Keisse was another reversal of a common order of things. 
The listener, holding the tall silver candlestick in a peculiar 
position, was contriving to keep her own face in the shadow 
while she studied fixedly the singer^s profile, with an ex- 
pression as suggestive as it was well portrayed. Moritz 
instantly recognized both portraits, although both were 
designedly obscured. 

With what thoughts must she have bent over that 
canvas ! 

When did you paint it ? he asked, after a moment. 

Not long ago,” she replied, adding tremulously, 
not be alarmed. No one can read it as can you and I.” 

‘‘Is this another jest for friendship?” he asked, not 
withdrawing his eyes from the painting. 

There was no reply. He turned and looked into her 
face. The look he met was the original of that upon the 
painted face above. He coidd not speak. 

“ Come, prima-donna ; come, virtuoso I ” cried Alexis, 
from the music-room. 

They started guiltily and turned abruptly from the 
picture. 

Various portfolios of music Alexis had already brought 
forth, hap-hazard. “We may expect a treat,” he exclaimed 
to Nadine, and threw himself into an arm-chair. “ E-eisse 
can play like Rossini.” 

“ The ‘fourth-rate pianist/ as he used to delight to call 
himself,” said Moritz, smiling. 

Nadine sat down mechanically. She was trembling. 
She dreaded the effect upon her self-control of the spell 
woven of old by Moritz Reisse’s fingers. Yet, perhaps the 
time was ripe for her wisely to yield to the most genuine 


JANUS. 93 

emotions — when it would be hard to say what was nature, 
what simulation, with her. 

Moritz too was inwardly curiously disquieted. There is 
sometimes a certain almost sacramental solemnity in a 
musician’s first playing, after a lapse of years, for one who 
has been long ago a part of his life and music, and the 
real listener alone played to, once upon a time, no matter 
how many other auditors used to be present. At Alexis’ 
request, he suddenly broke off his badinage, turned about 
with a serious face, and began to play a sonata of Mozart’s, 
the one in A major, with its lovely chain of variationSo 

He had been debating for several minutes whether he 
could and would choose it, for this piece had grown 
during their old days to he a watchword, a signal, and 
pregnant to them both with meanings in almost every bar. 
What musician has not the like piece in his portfolio or 
memory, to play which, or to hear played, is everything be- 
tween delight and pain, since each measure bears an inaudible 
burden ? His fingers trembled as he began. But his touch 
grew steadier, and he finished the lovely coda with exquisite 
effect. Alexis burst into violent applause. You play 
better than evei ; better than when I heard you in B— 
last May. Nadine, Nadine ! why so silent ? Bender to 
genius its meed! You have enchanted her, I see, Beisse, 
Behold, behold a fair and witty lady, speechless ! ” 

But she scarcely opened her lips, so profound was the 
feeling this music had stirred in her. Moritz played again 
at Alexis’ request. She murmured some ordinary com- 
pliments. The player did not require them. He mirrored 
her emotions in his own. He had begun to think all that 
she would have him think. 

He finished a fantasia that called for downright virtu* 
osity, in a style that put Alexis into ecstasies. 


94 


JANUS. 


Oh, Eeisse, Reisse ! ’’ he exclaimed, there is nobody 
like you — nobody ! To think of all this being wasted on a 
barbarian like myself ! Only a single one of the elect 
present ! You have got the same old fiends in your fingers 
and devil at your elbow, there is no mistake about that ! ” 

Reisse slipped from the piano during these and similar 
incoherent laudations. “ Am not I too to be entertained ? 
he asked, after a moment. Something more than even 
flattering speeches is due me. Countess, you will not refuse 
to sing to-night ? 

Of course she will not, now that the piano is here,’^ 
replied Alexis, quickly. Kadine, try that odd Polish 
ballad you picked up in Berlin, that I always had such a 
fancy for.’^ 

It was an odd coincidence. Nadine could not refuse her 
husband’s request had she been ever so reluctant to yield 
to it, and reluctant she no longer was. But she feared 
that song more than speech. She went to a portfolio and 
took thence an air in manuscript, a copy in her own hand, 
from an unsigned original which Moritz Reissehad written 
for her long ago. He knew the accompaniment by heart, 
though he sat down feigning to read it for the first time. 

Perhaps never in her life did Nadine sing anything as 
she did that song. Was Alexis lucky or unlucky, that he 
could not see how it affected the two at his side ? He only 
applauded vigorously. 

Upon my word, you are both inspired to-night ! ” he 
cried. An artistic Pentecost is come upon you, and I 
only have grieved away all such influences. Sing once 
again — only once, Nadine! No? Well, then, Moritz, do 
you play once more ; then we will let you off. And im- 
provise something — do! You used to be great at impro- 
vising, and you seem to be in a capital humor for it.” 


JANUS. 


95 


Moritz Reisse never could recall a theme or measure of 
the improvisation that indeed followed. It gave him what no 
other man’s music could furnish — spontaneous, free vent for 
emotion. It was an astonishment even to himself. If 
ever a human spirit at sudden war with itself, struggling 
with a passion, momentarily heating it down, crying out 
over the divine past, despairing of equal joy for the future, 
imploring fate to lighten its chaos, and shaken with the 
fiery consciousness that Love again was lord of it, ex- 
pressed itself in music, the spirit of Moritz Reisse did 
during that wonderful quarter of an hour. Alexis waited 
spell-bound. Moritz was drawing to an end, with the 
rush of his persistent, eloquent theme reiterated in stormy 
harmony. Nadine sat in the shadow of the piano, her 
lips set, and her hand once more clenched around the arm 
of the chair. She uttered a low cry. Her head fell hack. 
She had fainted. . 

Quick,” cried Alexis, darting to his wife’s support — 
that water yonder ! So ! There is a chaise-longue by 
the door ! This thing is not so very unusual. Carefully ! 
She is curiously emotional — like all your kind of people,” 
he added, a little maliciously. 

With Moritz’ aid he half led, half carried his wife into 
the drawing-room to the sofa. She seemed to be making 
a struggle not to lose her consciousness entirely. She 
opened her eyes heavily on them as she leaned back upon 
the sofa. 

That fan, Reisse ; I must find her salts I ” cried Alexis, 
running out of the room. 

Moritz turned to Nadine. They were alone. Her 
eyes met his, encountering the sympathy and ardor of 
the young man’s look. He took her hand and covered 
it with kisses. She made no resistance. With an unex- 


96 


JANUS, 


pressed tenderness in her touch, the slender fingers of 
her other hand, outstretched, glided caressingly through 
his dark hair. Moritz,’’ she said. Only one word, his 
name — but in what a cadence ! 

Alexis came hastening downstairs, followed by Nadine’s 
maid. Moritz started back and sat down by Nadine’s 
side. The Count entered the room. 

Aha — better already, I see ! ” he exclaimed, manipulat- 
ing the vinaigrette with dexterous and gentle solicitude. 
‘‘Reisse, you lucky fellow, to be playing in a warm room^ 
on a warm evening, with one half of your audience 
scarcely recovered from a sick headache ! What an 
extra compliment it helps to pay to your powers ! I shall 
have to interdict those long mornings in the kiosk, Nadine. 
Such things are the result.” 

Nadine smiled faintly and began declaring that she was 
quite herself again. It was all the heat of the music- 
room, she said. She would go to her roorn at once, and 
be ready to atone for this absurdity on the morrow. They 
went upstairs together. In separating, Nadine gave Moritz 
her hand. It was now feverishly hot. 

Until to-morrow,” she said. 

Until to-morrow,” he repeated, with some conventional 
phrases. Good-night, Alexis.” 

He turned into his own apartment. The moon flooded 
it. Alone at last, he locked the door and threw himself 
down in a fever of excitement. Through what successive 
stages of emotion his heart that day had passed! Well— • 
they alike ended in one climax. He loved her. He had 
never ceased to love her. And she loved him, as of old, 
—-and was the wife of his friend. 


JANUS. 


97 


CHAPTER XI. 

“ What’s this ? What’s this ? Is this her fault or mine ? 

The tempter or the tempted, who sins most ? ” 

Measure for Measure. 

Moeitz scarcely rested well on the night of that episode^ 
His face was a little haggard when he came down to break- 
fast. Nadine looked as composed and serene as usual. 
She and Moritz, however, rather avoided mutual glances^ 
although they chatted unceasingly with Alexis, who was 
in his most bluff and genial spirits. He was quite disposed 
to rally his wife and friend on the scene of the preceding 
evening. But Nadine quietly checked such pleasantries. 

The three were still at the table when the day’s letters 
arrived. Nadine took up some addressed to her, Alexis 

opened the B Zeitung, and Moritz broke the seals of 

a bulky MS. directed to him. 

‘^Beisse, your friend, Fraulein Ehlert, has returned to 

B from Wasserthal,” said Alexis, running his eye over 

the personal column of the journal. ^^H’m — with her, also 
Baron and Baroness Brandt and family. Eraulein Ehlert 
has quite carried by storm the gay world at the Baths, 
judging from this letter here. Somebody writes that 
^ Society is enchanted with her charming voice and graceful 
simplicity of manner.’ The correspondent is certainly en- 
chanted himself.” 

Society well may be,” replied Moritz, with all of his 
accustomed indifference of manner -when Elsa’s name was 
mentioned. Ah, how had he been carried degree by degree 
away from grace ! How entirely had he ceased to think of 


98 


JANUS. 


those weeks of pure and pleasant companionship ! Seeming 
to him already unreal and distant, their memory seldom 
flitted now through his tempest-tossed heart. It was fitting. 
In such a tranquil sphere he could have had no abiding 
existence. 

It seems odd to me that you didn’t prosecute that 
acquaintance as fully as you had a right to,” remarked 
Nadine, looking up. You certainly must have found a 
thousand opportunities.” 

“ Oh, I met her frequently, on and off the stage, of course,” 
replied Moritz, coldly. She did not particularly attract 
me, though I must say she appeared to me pleasant-man- 
nered and highly gifted.” 

Nadine laughed. She had not guessed the past, and could 
not read the near future in which she and Elsa Ehlert 
were again to oppose influence against influence, and wage 
war for a stake, the highest to be played for. She glanced 
at the manuscript before Moritz. That is hardly a billet- 
doux that you have there.” 

No, it is the libretto I expected from Berlin.” 

Ah, your libretto ! ” exclaimed Alexis. Then you can- 
not make that your excuse for leaving us so cavalierly as 
you threatened.” 

I am not going,” Moritz answered, abruptly — if you 
have not cancelled my invitation. This changes my plans 
very happily.” 

No ! He would not go now, come what might. Nadine 
seconded Alexis in his hospitable speeches, with her face 
suddenly flushed and her eyes filled with a deep gratitude. 

Tell me,” asked Alexis presently, eying the sheets 
before Moritz, ^^what subject, after all, did yoti ask your 
friend to dramatize for you ? I forget.” 

Paris and Helen,” answered Moritz. 


JANUS. 


99 


“Paris and Helen?'’ Nadine repeated, lightly. “You 
have chosen a popular episode, I am afraid, even if it 
is a far cry back to Troy. How many men, I wonder,” 
she went on, with jesting bravado, “have fallen in love with 
their friends’ wives since then ? — since the beginning 
of the world ? ” 

“Adam has always been above suspicion,” laughed 
Alexis, “ and his was a mariage de conmnance.^^ 

“ How do you know that Adam was always above sus- 
picion ? ” returned Nadine. “ The world grew up around 
Adam. It must have become, soon enough, prettj’^ much 
the world of to-day.” 

“I dare say ! — just as men and women gave up the idea 
that it was possible to do right, when the impulse toward 
evil happened to be particularly strong.” 

“ You are not very charitable,” replied his wife, mus- 

ingly- 

“ Especially,” interpolated Moritz, “ as I remember your 
declaring, over and over again, long ago (when you were 
half a musician and wholly a'romancist) that absolute love 
required no apology, and that humanity, in its respect, 
was simply the sport and the prey of the gods.” 

“Did I ?” queried Alexis. “ Well, I didn’t know what 
I was talking about in any case, perhaps because,” he 
added, smiling, “I had not met Nadine here, at that time.” 
His frank eyes turned alfectionately ^.pon his wife. 

“ Alexis,” she asked, suddenly facing him, “ suppose 
that you were some modern Menelaus, and that Paris, your 
very dear guest and friend, turned your silly wife’s head 
and compassed that memorable elopement. Would you 
sing an aria,ytmoso, and rouse the Greeks to Troy ?” 

Alexis smiled and twirled his mustache. “ No,” he 
replied, slowly. “ If I cared little for my wife and less for 


100 


JANUS. 


my dishonor I don’t say that I would not invoke Aga- 
memnon and Achilles and the rest. But that is a classical 
iind far-away proceeding. When a husband of our epoch 
loves his wife as he should, and is robbed of her love, there 
is generally but one wise thing for liini to do.” 

^^To kill Paris, of course ! ” exclaimed Moritz. Stick 
to antiquity, pray. Old, my dear Alexis; old and trite ! ” 

To kill Helen,” said Nadine, in a reflective tone. She 
is the one in fault. So you men tell us. Or, let him kill 
both Paris and Helen ? ” she added. 

In my philosophy Menelaus kills — himself,” responded 
Alexis. 

‘‘ Kills himself ! ” exclaimed Moritz, with a slight start. 

Your code will be hard to popularize.’’ 

“ More shame to the race, then,” answered von Graven- 
horst, smiling coldly, ^Horthe difficulty betrays the stuff of 
which modern men are made. I don’t urge my course, 
mind you, on any man who has not loved his wife su- 
premely, trusted her completely, and believed in her supreme 
regard for himself. Look now — let the unlucky fellow 
kill the lover, she will hate him. Let him kill her, re- 
morse ought to drive him mad ; and in the death of the 
two he gains nothing. No, the world is for them, not 
him } The sooner he takes his inconvenient existence 
somewhere else, out of their way, the better.” 

A short silence followed. Alexis had spoken with a 
matter-of-fact conviction that grated disagreeably on his 
auditors. ^AYell, we will forego the subject ; you would 
have to effect a classical revolution in society,” Nadine 
said, rather petulantly. And they rose and passed out upon 
the piazza behind the dining-room, a pleasant tarrying- 
place of a forenoon. 

Am I to have the society of either or of both of you in 


JANUS. 101 

the summer-house this morning ? ’’ Kadine asked, hesi- 
tatingly. 

I have some people to see with Bischoff — to pay too, 
for that matter,’^ Alexis answered. 

My acquaintance with this must he a good deal im- 
proved before luncheon time,” Moritz responded, holding 
up the libretto, “if jmu will both excuse me. Thanks for 
your offer of the music-room, but I shall shut myself up- 
stairs, instead.” 

He shrank from any immediate tUe-a-tete with Nadine. 
It would come soon enough. She bowed politely. After 
a caution from her husband against another headache, the 
trio separated. Nadine disappeared up the path to the 
summer-house. Alexis walked down an avenue. Moritz 
went to liis room. 

He put himself on a settee by the window and began, 
first of all, to read his friend’s text, setting forth a subject 
quaint indeed for any modern opera. At first his thoughts 
straj'^ed often enough from the page before him. Scenes 
and discoveries of yesterday and varying passions and pur- 
poses of to-day distracted his faculties. But as he continued, 
and the excellence of the poem became manifest, his atten- 
tion deepened. He began to see, as in a dream, not the 
amorous young shepherd of Mount Ida, not the haughty 
husband and faithless queen — but himself, Moritz Beisse 
— Alexis von Gravenhorst — and Nadine. The three blended 
together, floating shapes of fancy. He laid down the 
book — then took it up again. Sentence after sentence had 
been calling forth its musical expression within his brain. 

“ Confound it !” he exclaimed, “ if I keep on reading it 
in music I may as well get to writing at once ! ” He sat 
down by his table, already covered with loose music-paper, 
and began to sketch a number in his work. In a few mo- 


102 


JANUS. 


ments he was absorbed, lost in the oblivion of genius toward 
everything except that which it is every instant creating. 

It was veritably himself, Moritz E-eisse, and Nadine and 
Alexis von Gravenhorst who were put into the pages begun 
that summer day ; perhaps the greatest music that Moritz 
Eeisse was destined to conceive. He wrote it, then and 
afterward, as a man dreaming dreams and seeing visions. 
He did not in spirit go back unto the days of Troy. He 
brought the fugitive lovers, the wronged king, up from the 
shades to Gravenhorst. Inspiration, hitherto denied him in 
any measure, or so notably lacking in the graceful, flippant 

Prinz Max,’’ came to him at last. This was truly music 
that “makes itself,” like a fire within the spirit, as Moritz 
sketched and filled out one page after another, scene by scene^ 
act by act, of his first great score. It seemed to him dur- 
ing the time he spent on it that summer at Gravenhorst that 
he had never composed before. And whatever may be ar- 
gued from a work so inspired, one thing is, perhaps, certain, 
that the library of the collector does not offer to-day a nobler 
score, with purer melodies and more enchanting harmonies, 
than this matchless “ Paris and Helen,” written under the 
influence of a man’s guilty passion for the wife of his best 
friend. Prom tlie corrupt carcass of a dead lion there has 
more than once come the wild sweets of the forest swarm. 

He was served in his own room at luncheon. Then he 
continued his task almost furiously. Not until late in the 
afternoon did he drop his pen for that day, too exhausted 
to hold it longer. His first act was well begun. 

Evening came. At dinner he was received with much 
badinage from Alexis on his sudden application, and a 
great many questions from the same source as to the last 
state of Graeco-Trojan affairs. The Countess did not join 
her husband in these drolleries. She was silent during 


JANVS. 


103 


almost all the time they were at the table. Afterwards, 
when they were seated in the darkness out on the lawn for 
a little while, Again I envy you,” she contrived to say to 
Moritz, softly. 

You are certainly not going to work to-night, E-eisse,” 
said Alexis, taking his cigar out of his mouth, as Moritz 
presently rose abruptly from his rustic seat. 

Not on ^ Paris and Helen,^ ” replied Moritz. “1 have 
two or three letters that must he despatched early to-mor- 
row. I shall be down again in an hour.” 

He moved away in the blackness. 

‘‘ A good fellow, Moritz,” said Alexis to Nadine, after a 
moment. He dropped his arm along the back of the bench 
on which they were seated. “ Isn’t he a capital crony for 
a man of symphonies and sonnets ? ” 

^^Delightfully clever and entertaining,” replied Nadine, 
cordially. More so, far, than most musicians. Por I 
doubt if I have ever cared for purely artistic companion- 
ship as much as you have given me credit for.” 

A trifle more, then, for the society of such people as an 
everyday farmer-husband?” said Alexis, taking one of the 
hands whitely visible in the darkness. More than he 
has given you credit for ? That is kind of you, dear.” He 
kissed her hand lightly, adding, “ Ah, if all the arts iu the 
world and some hitherto undiscovered could but teach me 
to tell my wife how I love her ! ” 

Nadine made no reply. She offered no resistance to her 
husband’s caress. There was again silence, Alexis re- 
lapsing into that undemonstrativeness usual with him. He 
relinquished the hand and resumed a vigorous puffing at 
his cigar. Nadine kept her position at her husband’s side, 
with her chin resting upon her palm and her eyes looking 
forward into the gloom. 


104 


JANUS. 


Suddenly a faint flash lit the horizon toward the north. 
An equally faint mutter of thunder followed. Alexis 
started. “ Pfui ! ” he exclaimed — “ a storm on its way ? 
I don’t like that. Those clogged drains in the lower 
meadows will be flooded.” Presently another flash made 
visible an edge of black cloud. At the same moment a 
dark figure approached them. 

“ Markus, is that you ? ” asked Alexis, recognizing by 
the tall figure a son of the land-steAvard, Bischoff. 

Yes, sir,” replied the young man ; ‘^my father would 
be glad to see the Herr Count yonder. My uncle Kunz^ 
at the Bavine Farm, is worse this evening. We fear he 
cannot live till morning. He has sent a message to the 
Herr Count, by my father, about coming down to the 
Farm.” 

“Where is your father? On the avenue ? Well, I’ll 
find him at once. Nadine, you had better go over to the 
piazza. Don’t wait here in the dark. I’ll join you in a 
few moments.” 


JANUS, 


105 


CHAPTER XII. 

“ Good now, play one scene 
Of excellent dissembling ; and let it look 
Like perfect honor.” 

Antony and Cleopatra. 

The Countess complied listlessly. Alexis followed 
Markus around the corner of the house. A murmur of 
voices presently reached her. Nadine paused beside a 
column at the top of the steps. A graceful, ghostly figure 
in her white toilet, she looked up at the stars. “ I am no 
longer under my good one,” she said to herself. It has 
set forever, I fancy.” She changed her position, and 
glanced toward the wing. A light burned in Moritz’s 
room. ^^Nor are you it,” she added, apostrophizing it— 
although I swear you shall not be my evil one.” She 
began to sing softly the Polish ballad. 

Alexis approached the steps. Nadine,” he began, 
hastily, “ it seems that poor Kunz Bischoff, who used to 
look after me so kindly in my breakneck scrapes as a boy, 
and who has been such a capital fellow on the estate, is 
very low to-night. I told you how ill he has been. The 
poor old man is in great distress about his will. He is very 
anxious to see me again, and what hot. I am going to 
ride down to the lower Bavine Earm, with Bischoff and 
Markus. I’ll get back within a couple of hours — no, 
nearer three. The storm may come up in the meantime 
and delay me. Perhaps I shall find that I ought to spend 
some part of the night down there — Kunz’s affairs may 
need straightening out. If so, you need not be exercised.” 


106 


JANUS. 


Very well/’ replied Kadine ; shall not be lonely. I 
will make myself comfortable in the music-room for the 
evening.” 

shall ask Keisse to be expeditious in joining you/’ 
said Alexis, within the house. He returned in his 

riding-clothes and with his waterproof on his arm. Don’t 
either of you sit up later than j^ou choose. There is really 
no telling how long I may be. If I can, I will send you 
some kind of a message, however.” He rode away, accom- 
panied by Bischoff and Markus. 

Nadine sat quietly on the piazza some little time after 
his departure. Presently she went into the house and to 
the empty music-room. Her listlessness was over. She 
began walking about the small apartment with a restless 
step — the step of a caged leopard. The air had grown very 
still. The scent of her roses was wafted heavily from the 
garden. She opened a casement, first on this side, then 
on that, and leaned out a moment. A haze had already 
overspread the stars. She closed the blinds and began 
turning over some music on the pianoforte, 

Moritz Beisse came down the drawing-room slowl^q with 
his eyes fixed on the bending figure in white — the blood- 
red flowers in her hair and bosom. 

^‘Alexis interrupted you,” said Nadine, smiling, as he 
entered. It was absurd in him, but he would do it, in 
spite of my remonstrances. Don’t spoil your evening. I 
am quite equal to spending one alone,” 

My letters were written, thank you,” replied Moritz. 

We will not let time oppress us very severely. What 
can I do to entertain you ? ” 

He felt near at hand the moment when confession must 
burst from his lips. But he must restrain himself until 
fairly, unmistakably it was arrived. For, from it, he and 


JANUS. 


107 


his friend’s wife must be thenceforth to one another their 
true selves, whether he or she should first confess the 
truth — I love you, I love you ! ” 

Play to me,” said ISTadine, sinking into a seat near the 
piano. I deserve to save my reputation as a listener 
after last night, when — ” She was abruptly silent. 

Reisse obeyed. But it was plain that he was hardly in 
a virtuoso’s mood this second evening. He played several 
pages in quick succession from the first book at hand. Na- 
dine remained motionless, her beautiful head and perfect 
throat thrown a little back, her eyes partly closed. Moritz 
could feel her veiled gaze resting upon him. 

After a little he sprang up. am not worth listening 
to ! ” he exclaimed. My hands are wood to-night. Stay 
— have you any of our old duets that we used to play to- 
gether in Milan ? ” 

She rose and opened a portfolio, one evidently kept by 
itself. 

‘^Certainly. They are all here,” she said. ^^Do you 
prefer this — or this ? Do you remember ? ” 

He placed some music upon the piano. Nadine sat 
down by his side. They began together. How long it was 
since they had sat thus, her slender white fingers side-by- 
side with his darker but scarcely less lithe ones ! How 
often in days that were done hadjoHmo and secondo been 
interrupted, as the lovers had united those same hands in 
some eloquent pressure, to which an embrace had suc- 
ceeded ! 

Neither spoke now more than an occasional word. Page 
after page was turned. That first duet ended, Moritz 
opened another, not pausing for his partner’s consent. 
They played that also. A third succeeded — the last of 
those he had taken from the portfolio. As the final sad 


108 


JANUS. 


cliords of this one — an arrangement of a Scandinavian 
romance — ceased to vibrate, the Countess shivered- 

No more, Moritz ! ” she exclaimed. No more ! But 
it has been like the old evenings — has it not ? Moritz 
did not answer. “ What nonsense I talk ! ” she said, 
sharply, glancing at him and rising from the instrument. 

He also quitted it. But she suddenly returned, and 
seating herself alone before it on the bench he had left, 
began harmonizing with one hand and shadowing her face 
with the other. 

Presently she looked np at Moritz, standing at the other 
end of the piano, affecting to glance at the music she had 
left there. She brought her hands down on the key-board 
with an angry discord of a dozen notes. Moritz ! ’^ she 
exclaimed, “ let me ask you a question. Answer it in 
friendship. Bo you find me greatly changed from the days 
when you and I used to play those duets together ? 
Changed ? ” he repeated, in some uncertainty. 

Stop — I want no idle compliments. 1 wish you to tell 
me whether Nadine von Gravenhorst appears to you much 
more tranquil, at peace with herself, less capricious, better 
controlled than Nadine von Lillienberg. Por I ought 
— I ought to have won much from j-ears and the bitter 
experiences they have brought me ! ’’ 

“ 1 find you changed in nothing,” said he, quickly, 
nothing that rendered you charming. Perhaps, however, 
this is because I thought I knew you, understood something 
of you then ; and now I do not and have no right to.” 

“ Alas, I am far less at peace with myself, Moritz,” she 
replied, with a sigh. Certainly life yields me daily less 
and less happiness, whatever were my past burdens.” 

You are dissatisfied ? ” returned Moritz. Yet no one 
has apparently less outward cause to be unhappy.” 


JANUS. 


109 


'^Less outward cause!’’ she repeated. ^^You speak 
truly. Yet perhaps I am not so much unhappy, Moritz,” 
she continued, ‘^as still too largely my old self, indeed ; that 
self whom you — began to know. I am so weary of com- 
paring existence, as I find it, with dreams of what it was to 
have been. I wonder if you remember,” she went on, ris- 
ing from the piano and walking nervously across the room, 
and back, what I used to tell you — about my feeling with- 
in me a passionate impulse constantly impelling me toward 
the Bad, and quite as constantly opposed by some nameless 
principle which I am yet sure is not the Good, but which is 
also my very nature, and which, ever combating the other, 
saves me from it, yet never subdues it. Oh, I have some- 
times cried out, Moritz, that I would perish, body and soul, 
to obtain that rest, it must be that happiness, which I am 
certain exists for me, as an alh^ of Evil alone. I used to feel, 
I feel now, like some animal that with wise guidance could 
be trained to quiet and to good, but to be so trained and 
guided demands some stronger and new force which I shall 
never encounter. I ought to be lashed, beaten into subjec- 
tion ! Ah, I anticipate your question. Yes, Alexis has 
quite power and judgment enough to master me. I care 
enough for him to permit him. But alas ! — his joyous, 
well-balanced nature has never comprehended the secret 
storm and stress of so ill-regulated a personality as mine. 
I should as soon expect emotion enough from him to ap- 
preciate the depth in me as — passion from a flute, to bor- 
row a figure from the orchestra.” 

Fire must in truth be fought by fire,” replied Moritz. 

The day in which one such soul meets another yet more 
passionate it will lose itself in it and be at rest. That is 
the old reply.” 

Footsteps approaching in the hall interrupted them. A 


110 


JANUS. 


knock — the portiere was raised, and a servant entered. 

A note sent up from the Ravine Farm from the Herr 
Count,” he announced. Nadine opened it. She read it 
aloud : 

^ Dearest Nadine. I find that I can do good by remain- 
ing here, possibly all night ; certainly until toward morn- 
ing. Old Kunz is sinking rapidly, and they are in great 
affliction. There is going to be a hard storm, I fancy, and 
Paulus will just about get this up to you in time. Good- 
night. — A.’ 

“Very well, ” she said, turning to the servant. “Your 
master will not return until late. Are all except Caspar 
and yourself gone up ? Are you sure ? Very good ; then 
tell Caspar not to wait till the Count returns. You may 
close all the house except these two rooms and then go to 
bed yourself.” 

The man’s steps died away. She turned to Moritz and 
resumed the conversation. “Another soul yet more pas- 
sionate ? ” she reiterated, bitterl3^ “ Oh, I have already 
come near to meeting some such. They lie behind me! I 
am committed. It is too late for me to hope.” 

Her presence and words were fast conquering his self- 
control. Since the preceding night’s discoveries he had 
realized that it would be measured bj^ hers. 

“Do not speak so,” he exclaimed. He checked himself 
with a cry of pain, and glanced at his hand. Two of her 
favorite roses lay upon the pile of music, and a thorn had 
sunk itself in his finger. 

“You are wounded!” she exclaimed, compassionately, 
“and through me. Is the thorn still there?” 

She came up to him, as if with a certain reluctance, and 
put out her hand, at the same time unfastening a tiny 
gold bodkin from the bosom of her gown. 


JANUS. ll:l 

Are you brave enough to bear a little pain ? Let me 
be your surgeon.^’ 

He felt himself trembling and burning as they stood 
face to face, with her fingers clasping his wrist. 

It is in deep, I fear,” she said, bending over the hand 
and beginning with delicate address to extract his tor- 
mentor. 

He felt every atom of blood in his body begin to glow. 
Nadine, too, blushed and seemed to grow suddenly con- 
fused. She felt the quick beating of his pulse. 

I am awkward,” she murmured ; yet there ! — ^behold 
your suffering at an end ! ” — ^and she brushed away the 
intruder from the point of her improvised probe. Moritz 
did not move. The fatal instant of his overthrow was here. 
Nadine looked up into his face. You do not thank me,” 
she said. Her eyes encountered his own, brimming with 
irresistible passion. He seized her hands before she could 
have turned from him, had she tried. 

“ Nadine,” he cried, “ a thorn is still there ! — has 
been my torment all these years ! Do you not read 
the tale retold in every look? I love you! — I love 
you ! ” 

He drew her within his arms and kissed her. Nadine 
seemed to rest in his embrace as in a trance. Her head 
lay upon his arm. Her upturned face was absolutely white. 
Her eyes were closed. 

At that same instant came a flash of lightning. A peal 
of thunder broke the momentous stillness outside. A 
deluge of rain announced that the storm, so long creeping 
up unperceived, had made its advent. 

The sudden uproar was like the breaking of a charm. 
Nadine started to her feet as if recalled to herself, and 
opened her wild eyes. 


112 


JANUS. 


Let me go ! ” she cried, in a low voice, freeing herself 
from his arms. “ Let me save myself and you ! 0 God 1 

the tempest without — the tempest witliin ! ’’ 

^^Nadine ! ” cried Moritz, imploringly — ^Gisten to me ! 

I must not, I dare not listen ! she answered, standing 
tremblingly, at a distance. ‘^Must I not seal within my 
lips all that I would reply ? Alas, Moritz ! this ff^tal 
night when your love and mine could no longer be checked ! ’’ 
He would have burst out again. With half a sob, “Stop,’* 
she cried, “ stop ! I must have time to control myself, be- 
fore you speak. I tell you, I am terrified — well may I be ! 
Our silence is broken — our comedy is over ! We can act 
no more.” Her last words came in an accent of profound 
regret. “ I must have a moment to think before we drop 
our masks forever.” 

She sat down in a low chair by the oak table in the 
centre of the room. Leaning h^r trembling arms upon this, 
and covering her face with her hands, she seemed indeed 
to be striving to collect her thoughts. If she expected a 
reply of any sort from Moritz, none came. He stood 
where she had left him, regarding her with perplexity and 
passion. The rain and the wind dashed furiously in the 
park. The incessant lightning made pale the single flick- 
ering wax-light remaining unextinguished on the table. 

At length Nadine raised her head again. Her face had 
all at once grown sharp under the effort she had been 
making — of whatever character that effort might have 
been. “Moritz,” she said, in a calm voice, “ you love me, 
you have said. Worse still, you know that I love you, that I 
have never ceased to love you, and must love you while I 
live. Alas, that it is true, that it is too late ! But,” she 
continued, rising, “my honor, the honor of my husband, 
your own honor, saves me from you, saves you. Forget what 


jAyus. 


113 


has occurred. I — I forgive it. We must part now, else all is 
lost for two unhappy souls. You see it. Leave here to- 
morrow. No — not a word more. Good-night — God help us 
to forget one another ! ’’ She stopped, caught her breath as 
if in pain, and drawing lier white wrap about her, turned 
toward the door into the hall. 

Moritz uttered a broken cry of passion and anger. But 
her tone checked him. One last word,’^ he cried, im- 
ploringly, stretching out his hand despairingly. ^‘Do you, 
do you indeed love me ? Nadine, Nadine ! End at last 
my miserable doubt ! 

Her hand trembled against the door-post. She leaned 
toward him, standing there with a power in her expres- 
sion which startled him. ^‘Love you ? Moritz ! Ah, do not 
look at me ! I cannot bear your eyes ! They burn me, they 
devour me ! Know once again, Moritz, for the last time, 
that I love you with every fibre of my nature, with a love 
that can know no end and no respite — with a love that 
impels me to fly from you now, lest — 

Before Moritz could oppose word or gesture, she turned, 
threw aside the portiere and glided from the room. He 
uttered an exclamation, stood for an instant in bewilder- 
ment, and then followed her. The thick hanging fell behind 
him. Afresh gust extinguished the light. The music-room 
was left empty and in darkness. 


114 


JANUS. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

^*Ant. — I’ll leave you, lady. 

Cleo. Courteous lord, one word. 

Sir, you and I must part, but that’s not it: 

Sir, you and I have loved; but there’s not it.” 

Antony and Cleopatra. 

It was the first week in September. The oaks ana 
chestnuts of Gravenhorst Park were beginning to whisper 
to one another that the time of their pride was over. The 
outside air, if daily still more bracing, was warm at five in 
the afternoon in the kiosk on the hill — in which pleasant 
shelter, flecked with yellow dashes of diminishing sunshine, 
they sat listessly one afternoon. 

The summer had wrought an ill change in Moritz. 
There had come shadows beneath the eyes. His voice had 
lost its pleasant note. On his forehead a slight frown 
often hovered, and suggestions of restlessness and ennui and 
care. With an open book half-fallen from his hand, his figure 
thrown back in the wicker arbor-sofa, and his eyes looking 
vaguely out into the air, the story was told this afternoon 
without a word. 

One has often seen the red wick of the extinguished 
taper flare into a temporary glow — waver — and then go 
out forever. So was it with this love in the heart of Moritz 
Reisse. During the years between the separation from 
Nadine von Lillienberg and his meeting with her as the 
Countess von Gravenhorst, his passion had, however un- 
consciously, been changed into a sentimental tendresse. 


JANUS, 


115 


Had he never met her again, this phase of it might either 
have lasted until the end of his life or died out altogether, 
forgotten in some new experience. But fate brought him 
once again to her side. The magnetism of her own feel- 
ing rekindled his into life. The flame burned awhile and 
then flickered out — this time utterly. 

There are few variations to such an old story. How 
weary he grew during those months ! Weary of the endless 
demands his position at her side entailed upon him ; weary 
of the look from her eyes, the cadence of her voice, the 
poise of her figure — weary of her love and of her whole 
self. Burdensome had become just such hours as this, when, 
seated alone with Nadine, he read aloud one or another of 
the round of poets whose amorous verse was her delight. 
More unendurable were the art arguments, empty discussions 
in which the speculative side of her character found partic- 
ular amusement. “ On commence par etre dupe ; on finit 
par Mre fripon,” the proverb runs. Reisse was not wholly 
free from a guilty sense of his thorough knavery ; but irrita- 
tion at having been the dupe of sentiment and cajolery 
was vastly keener. 

He had indeed remained all the summer. Alexis was 
thoroughly delighted at his continued stay. In the multi- 
tude of the husband’s pursuits and cares the wife and friend 
were much together — according to Alexis’ special intents in 
inviting Moritz. ^^The best of good company for one an- 
other,” Alexis said frequently. Besides all that his hand 
found to do at Gravenhorst, Alexis had that summer 

bought a valuable piece of property in B , the house of 

the ex-mayor, Johannes Marner. In place of renting the 
dwelling to other occupants, he abruptly decided on fitting 
it up for a town-residence, where he and Nadine could 
spend a part of each winter, in place of passing the entire 


116 


JAN VS. 


season in Berlin. These alterations engrossed Alexis com* 
pletely. 

To quit Gravenhorst on a sufficient pretext was the one 
thing Moritz now wished. But how to break his fetters ? 
Weak, irresolute, he shrank from her anger. It was true 
that, in a few weeks from now, engagements to Manager 

X would oblige him to leave Gravenhorst for Berlin. 

But Nadine had induced Alexis to fix their own departure 
to Berlin for the same date. “ We can spend April and May- 

in the house in B , instead of October and November,” 

she suggested. A net was cast about Moritz the strength 
and breadth of which he had only lately come to realize — 
in anger and ennui. To-day his predicament seemed 
to him particularly intolerable. He would risk a battle. 

Chance gave him courage and excuse. Shortly after 
breakfast a note sent post-haste from His Highness the 
Duke had come to him. 

It contained a request for his immediate presence in 

B , to remain for the following three weeks to rehearse 

and superintend a concert in the new Singschule, for a 
public charity. He had here an opportunity, the chance 
of a respite, and before it should end he could develop 
some plan for a completer separation. He read the 
Duke’s cordial letter aloud at the table, with feigned an- 
noyance. Alexis expressed his vexation. Nadine said 
nothing. Moritz took care that she should recognize the 
letter as genuine. She handed it back to him with a smile. 

There was nothing in the situation that she did not 
realize. She had perceived its growth from week to week. 
But not a word escaped her lips. Her policy of love ran 
counter to that. Sometimes she found it hard to maintain 
it, and stopped on the verge of discovering to Moritz what 
she understood so thoroughly. But she held her peace. 


JANUS. 


117 


In any case she hardly would express her own feelings 
when the time came for her to accuse his. 

To-day she affected to be painting rapidly in order to finish 
part of the picture in front of her before it was time to go 
clown to the Lodge. But she was not giving undivided atten- 
tion to her brush. As Moritz sat partly turned from her, 
she glanced occasionally at him — then swiftly continued 
her work. The bitter suggestion conveyed by his whole 
personality lately had become normal to it. 

All at once she broke the silence abruptly, as if divining 
his thoughts. 

^^The Duke’s letter is sufficient excuse! You may go,” 
she said, without taking her eyes from her canvas. 

Moritz started violently. The book fell from his hand. 

May go ? The Duke’s letter a sufficient excuse ? ” he re- 
peated, in .confusion. 

She laughed dryly. Certainly,” she replied, dipping 
her pencil in the color. “ Prisoner and jailer — you have set 
us down for that, at present. Pray, no denials. I do not 
blame you. You are a man. Constancy is too much to 
■expect from you. You are tired of all this.” She made a 
sweeping gesture. ‘‘ You would have been glad to be free 
from it long ago. Strange ! but you have feared a scene 
and its possible consequences. You have been wrong.” 

Do not utter follies that are unkind follies,” he ex- 
■claimed, rising and crossing to the opposite side of the 
kiosk. Nadine ! 3mu cannot think what you say. I tired 
of our life here ? I — a prisoner at Gravenhorst, fearful of 
a misunderstanding with you ? I do not think you can 
realize what those words imply.” 

I realize it perfectly,” she returned, laying down her brush 
and taking up her fan. ^‘Por weeks — already — a change 
has come upon you. My eye is the eye of a woman who loves 


118 


JANUS. 


you. Nathing deceives it. Life liere at Gravenhorst with 
me galls 3mu and wearies you. My friend, j-our bondage 
here, or to me anywhere else, is imaginary. Moritz, for 
what do you take me ? How ill you understand me or all 
m^i^ sex ! Will anything, I wonder, enlarge your ideas ? 
At all events, I sa^r to you now, go — you are free. I want 
no bondsman beside me.’’ 

He was less ill-at-ease as he answered : “ I do not 
know what you mean by bondage. It is impossible that 
you should imagine that I have ceased to — to care for you ! 
Can you possibly suppose me so devoid of all gratitude 
that I can forget what you have lavished upon me, given 
up to me — ” 

She interrupted him. have said nothing about your 
forgetting : and gratitude has no share in your situation. 
Besides, what woman like me could be content with a love 
developed from obligation, a love emasculated into — grati- 
tude ? Moritz, you cannot help your own heart. The hour 
in which your love reached its height and encountered 
mine was the beginning of its ebb. Mine stays ever at 
its climax. Listen to me. Indeed, nothing that you can 
say will alter my belief. I have determined on a danger- 
ous — no,” she interrupted herself, smiling, “ I will not call 

it a dangerous, but a frank experiment. Beturn to B . 

Take up your old life and work there. Besume every friend- 
ship that you turned from to come to us at Gravenhorst. 
I trust you, assured that no other woman has supplanted me 
in your heart. I am bold — I believe none can ! Ah, be it 
any other, known or to be met while we are separated thus 
for a time, compare such with the woman whom you have 
loved all your life. This is only a cloud that has come over 
your heart. When the Luke’s concert is done and you 
return to Gravenhorst for a week or so before we three set 


JANUS, 119 

out for Berlin, you will tell nie how well I have read your 
malady, and how cleverly prescribed a remedy/^ 

Could it be that he did not see how, with every word, 
Nadine was one who 

“ Tells the bright water slipping through her fingers 
That she permits its flow” ? 

I do not know what to say to you,” Moritz replied, 
slowly. “You are wrong. You are perversely wrong. 
Every sentence wounds me. You misjudge, you wilfully 
accuse me.” 

“ — Of nothing,” she returned lightly. “Look at me. 
Do you refuse to go ? Do you refuse ? ” 

He flushed again. “ I — I have said that I must go, in 
consequence of his Highness’s commands. But only because 
they are on me. In my whole heart there is no shadow of 
what you lay to my charge so suddenly. Heaven is my 
witness, Nadine ! ” 

“ Et cetera,” she said, with the same not ill-natured, ex- 
pressive smile. “No more protestations ! I have said 
enough for you to discover that I have my own perceptions, 
and am more reasonable than you supposed. You will not 
admit that ? Very well — gallantry shall carry the day. 
Let us say no more. You will leave here to-morrow. 
I shall miss you, I shall be glad to welcome you again. 
Voila tout. And I give you my hand in token of perfect 
amity and good-fellowship.” 

He took it mechanically. Once before in this same place 
he had taken it — in another such covenant. Something 
not unlike contrition came into his face — careless con- 
firmation of Nadine’s words. “ You — you are very good,” 
he said ; “ but you will tell me soon that you have been 
mistaken.” 


120 


JANUS, 


dear Moritz, I am neither very good nor at all 
mistaken/^ she answered, laughing,, 

At the same moment Alexis’ whistle was heard. He 
came up the path, waving his hand, and stepped lightly 
into the kiosk. 

Well, my children,” he exclaimed, ^^what have you 
found to talk about this hot afternoon ? Nadine, Lorenz 

came back on the early train from B . They have 

matched perfectly the upholstering in the library. But 
the green damask is not to be found, for love or money. 
What had we better do ? I shall let you decide. I declare, 
Beisse, I shall have to fit up and give you a house, the day 
you are married ! Only I should have to be a prince out 
of the Arabian Nights to induce you to take the gift.” 

You may believe that,” replied Moritz, laughing. My 
marriage is, in any case, an uncertain contingency. You 
needn’t begin laying foundations. And am I not also a true 
son of Bohemia, Alexis, whose hearth-stone is never in 
one place, and who is too fond of wandering about under 
the sky and stars to appreciate house and wife, or any 
such domestic fixtures ? ” 

Your friends, then, may take it as all the higher com- 
pliment that you appreciate theirs,” Alexis answered, 
gayly, and hummed a bar of Verdi’s Sempre Libera.” 
“Best secure in your nomadism. No one, with my con- 
sent, shall try to confine your roving feet until they are 
weary.” 

Nadine had been busy putting together brushes and 
colors. The three quitted the kiosk. With a good deal of 
lively badinage they descended the path to the garden. 
Not even a last rose was visible. As they entered the 
hall of the Lodge, Alexis turned to Moritz. 

Well, my dear Beisse, married you may never be, but 


JANUS. 


121 


jolly as a bridegroom you certainly seem this afternoon. 
You have been a trifle saturnine lately, do you know it ? 
I began to think that your ^ Paris and Helen’ had been 
too much for your intellect or your temper. This after- 
noon, now, you act like a man who has had some disagree- 
able weight taken off his mind, or a surgical operation 
performed, or some weighty confession made.” 

He has,” interposed Hadine, dryly, ^^And he has 
been confessing himself to me.” 

Ho, ho ! ” exclaimed Alexis ; then to his spiritual 
benefit, I am sure.” 

“ Well,” she answered, smiling, “ he has been given 
what sometimes is better ■*‘han any priest’s absolution — a 
woman’s advice. Oh, no — I shall not betray a penitent’s 

secrets. It is quite Reisse’s and my own affair. I 

intend to keep- it so, I promise you.” 

Alexis laughed in turn, and after a few words more they 
separated. Some visitors arrived at the Lodge after din- 
ner. The evening was occupied with their entertainment. 

It was true. He felt himself free. She had said so. Moritz 
left Gravenhorst Lodge next morning. He drove awaj^, 
resolved never again to enter its gates. Nadine bade him 
farewell, in apparently the most buoyantly cheerful and 
kindly mood. The Park la}^- all green and gold, as he was 
whirled down through it. The swans trumpeted and 
ruffled about in the water; the air was full of the scent of 
pine and hemlock. All seemed fair and reposeful in the 
September atmosphere. But Moritz gave a sigh of relief 
as the carriage passed out between the tall stone pillars, in 
whose vases only a single red dash of the geranium blos- 
soms could be seen. It was like Tannhauser leaving be- 
hind him the Venusberg and its sovereign. He was free! 

On he went. The high road stretched before. The moun- 


122 


JANUS. 


tains rose up behind. He was free ! Yes, his face was set 
toward unfettered life once more. His heart throbbed at 
the thought of returning to it, of again throwing himself 
into that wider, more bustling life of the creative artist, of 
meeting new men and women. “ I need a thorough toning- 
up !” he said to himself. “ ‘ Paris and Helen ’ has been a 
good bit of work — but the summer, otherwise — Good Lord, 
what an ass I was to come here I Ah, and there is Fraulein 
Ehlert, too I 


JANUS. 


123 


CHAPTER XIV. 

^ Oh, what may man within him hide!’’ 

Measure for Measure, 

When Elsa Ehlert saw Moritz cross her threshold again, 
much of what she felt she was able, fortunately, to hide 
under the greeting due to any absent friend. She had 

passed the summer in or about B , employed with her 

studies and hef friends. Indirectly she had heard from time 
to time of Moritz, who had so suddenly entered her life and 
slipped out from it. Nothing significant was said before 
parting as to any letter-writing, and there had been occa- 
sion for none. But, as weeks passed, the stronger grew an 
emotion, at first a mystery, then an enemy vainly contested 
and more dominant till its work was completed. Moritz 
stood between her and all other men. The shock was se- 
vere, when she admitted to herself that this was true. For 
she was not free, even to the pain of a foolish passion. 

Unhappy Johann Steins ! What should she do ? Break 
with him or cleave to him ? — persevere in the pretence of 
loving, or sacrifice pledge to impulse ? Alas ! were she 
thus to free herself, on what could she base hope ? She un- 
derstood the influence "which drew Moritz to her. It was 
all worse than nothing, so far as concerned this new phase. 

Such had been the struggle in her heart since her return 

to B from Wasserthal. Fortunately she possessed no 

small self-control, or Johann Steins in particular might 


124 


JANUS. 


have suspected that all was not well for him. She kept 
vigilant watch over every word and look. 

In the Duke’s projected concert in the Singschule she 
was to take some share. She knew that Moritz might ar- 
rive in town at any hour. But she had trouble to be quite 
her wonted self, as he seated himself this evening near her 
father, and, after a few moments, they were left to continue 
their conversation alone. At last ! he is here again !” 
Elsa’s heart kept crying out with a throbbing jojdulness. 
His voice, the glance from his eyes, the pleasure with which 
he sat there listening to her — unspeakably happy even these 
things made her. 

And so ^mu are glad to see me again ? ” Moritz repeated, 
innocently. He himself had been unfeignedly gliid, but his 
pleasure was side by side with the irritation against him- 
self that nevertheless brought now no practical impulse 
towards another plane of moral and intellectual action. 
Surely he was only resuming a part to be played under 
these conditions ! There were other parts. It was all a 
matter of environment. “On jmur honor, as Kodel’s in- 
carnation of truthfulness, are you so very glad to see me 
back and at work again ? ” he asked, in a half-bantering 
tone. 

“Very glad,” she answered, smiling. How hard had it 
been for her to hide the degree of her gladness ! “ And 

as to wmrk, when have you rested, I wonder ? Have you 
really finished this new opera, in which I am to conquer 
Berlin, if I keep my engagement with the Intendant ? ” 

He had brought part of the manuscript with him, he 
replied. They could look over it later. 

“ I do not think you seem thoroughly well, after all this 
hard work ? ” she said, more than once. 

Her quick perception discovered the change in the man- 


JANUS. 


125 


ner of the man, the look in his eyes, a certain reluctance 
to speak of himself. But her pure heart little suspected 
the cause. 

I am thoroughly well,’’ he reiterated, hastily ; “ ready, 
too, for Berlin and November.” 

With a new happiness she was reminded that they were 
to be there together. 

They went over the music he had brought with him. 
Nothing could have suited Elsa better. Moritz remarked 
how this quiet summer of rest and study had doubled the 
beauty of her voice, and she exclaimed, again and agam, 
that this music was the music Moritz had been destined 
to write from the beginning of the world. Laughing, 
she recalled to him their first meeting, the night when he 
had overheard her criticism of the Prinz Max ” outside 
the Hoftheater door. No such fault could be found in 
these pages, she said. And she was right. 

‘‘Now let me see, my friend,” she said, reflectingly. 
“ You are to be in town until this concert is done with, I 
believe ? After that, where do you go ? Do you return to 
your friends, or remain here until it is time to go to 
Berlin?” 

“ I remain here — No, I return to Gravenhorst,” answered 
Moritz, in some confusion. “ Truth to tell, I hardly know 
yet which I shall do. I have promised von Gravenhorst to 
go back to the Lodge for at least a few days ; but they 
had nearly decided to come down during the concert week 
to the new house here. If so, he and the Countess will 
stay through October. We are all expecting to go on to 
Berlin together.” 

“ The von Gravenhorsts, also ? ” repeated Elsa. She 
wondered whether they would engross his spare time in 
Berlin. She had not looked forward to it. “I forgot they 


126 


JANUS. 


spend their winters there. Are they fond of Berlin society ? 
I like your friend’s face. He has an honest and sincere one. 
Is his wife as beautiful as she is reported ? I might have 
noticed her on that first night of ^ Prinz Max/ but I had 
too much else to think of.” 

“The Countess is a very beautiful woman/’ he replied, 
“but a somewhat peculiar one. I do not think you would 
feel any special sympathy with her — as you do for your 
friend Baroness Brandt, for example.” 

“The Baroness has indeed been very kind to me,” Elsa 
responded, “and a whole handbook of etiquette besides. 
I love her dearly.” 

They chatted a few minutes longer; then he bade her 
good-night. As he walked down the street and entered 
his old lodgings, rest filled his heart ! Once, once again 
had he been permitted to enter a green valley of peace. 
Ko, it was rather like breathing the clear atmosphere of a 
mountain-top after a fen’s vapors. He felt himself in a mood 
to inhale it. After all, a man’s lapses from self-control 
and honor were blunders — one lost by them ! Evil had been 
the day wherein he had quitted this purer world ! Was it 
not all hallucination, to vanish suddenly and give place to 
the lustful seclusion of the cavern of Holda ? or had that 
been only a fantasy which he could forget ? 

For the next two weeks it indeed appeared as if his 

summer’s absence from B had been the unreality. All 

seemed as of old. Preparations for the concert absorbed 
him. He had his chorus and orchestra to rehearse, and 
to write some new music. One by one his evenings were 
spent in the company of Elsa Ehlert and her father. They 
were, as Elsa predicted, seldom alone on these occasions. 
Johann Steins came and went. He appeared to include 
Herr Reisse in his pledge to Elsa as to her profession and 


JANUS. 


127 


professional intimacies. He seldom referred to him, but 
was perhaps growing a trifle more observant. Besides 
Johann, often came sociable Kodel and his wife, Bertha 
Grauschimmel, and many music-loving people, aristocratic 
and other, who rejoiced in having the entree to a young 
prima-donna’s circle. Nevertheless Moritz was a member 
of it. She enjoyed that dangerous pleasure from day to 
day. The pleasure had its compensation each night, when, 
thinking of Johann Steins and reproaching herself for a 
part she played, more difficult than any operatic role, she 
asked herself how this would end. What must she do to 
quiet this unreasoning passion, daily growing dearer to her 
soul ? And in any case how break her engagement with the 
advocate ? Could she tell her betrothed the truth and beg 
a release ? — implore him to keep her secret ? Harder still 
was what she told herself — that it might be ordained to 
her otherwise to keep this secret forever. Where should 
she hide her face if Moritz Beisse discovered how she now 
regarded him, before he himself had — what ? Learned to 
love her ? And this he might never do ; certainly did not 
do to-day ! Poor Elsa ! 

But to Reisse those were happy weeks, taking all things 
together. Moritz felt himself living a new life while they 
lasted. He heard twice from Alexis, and saw his late host 
as many times, when the last touches to the house in town 

brought Alexis to B . Prom Nadine herself came only 

some conventional remembrances by her husband, now 
and then. It unmistakably was part of her original scheme 
to have no needless communication with Moritz during 
their separation. She had hinted as much. Moritz began 
to ask himself whether breaking with her were a thing to be 
so dreaded in the doing after all. In amicably furthering 
their present separation, had Nadine not shown how much 


128 


JANUS. 


she was at Ms mercy ? — had she not made a conces- 
sion out of a necessity ? It was a pity Moritz did not 
speculate a little more attentively on this point. 

But with the week preceding the concert Moritz had a 
new subject to meditate upon. For he began to remark cer- 
tain unexpected phenomena in the conduct of Johann Steins. 
The taciturn young advocate suddenly became quicker of 
speech, watchful of Elsa in the society of others, and 
finally began to manifest some evidences of a personal and 
particular antipathy to Moritz Beisse. I declare,’^ said 
Moritz to Elsa, one evening, after a blundering and rather 
embarrassing exhibition of this, if I did not think some- 
thing of Herr Steins’ good sense, I should accuse him of 
being jealous!” Elsa blushed. She murmured some 
deprecating reply. Secretly she was sorely troubled. 
Kevertheless, Johann did not vent any displeasure in 
private. He seldom met his betrothed entirely alone. 
When he did, he certainly did not summon courage to 
quarrel ; and that Elsa herself shrank from the idea of 
any such eclaircissement may be supposed. But gladly 
would she have had the battle over with, if a battle must 
be. She could not strike the fire from the flint herself. 
Moritz Beisse, after two or three allusions to the rapid 
metamorphosis in Johann’s manner toward him, said no 
more, perceiving that it annoyed her. Then, as days 
went on and he sharpened his eyesight, he refrained all 
the more carefully. He became sure that he himself was 
inherently a part of the difficulty. Precisely in what degree 
connected, of course escaped him. Friendship in this 
matter is usually far more blind than love. 

One day, the third preceding the Duke’s concert, Moritz 
was returning from the Besidenz, where he had just been 
favored with a long interview with his critical Highness. 


JANUS. 


129 


He chanced to pass through Miinsterstrasse, where Count 
Alexis’ new mansion was situated. A carriage was waiting 
in front. The Count himself appeared in the portico. 

Ha, Reisse, is that you ? ” cried he. “ I put my head 
twice into your quarters this afternoon and found you out. 
Come here. Let me show you how things begin to look.” 
Moritz ran up the steps. Alexis proceeded to escort him 
all over the hotel, beautifully furnished, and even through 
the conservatory and tiny garden. 

‘^Nadine ? Oh, Nadine is quite w^ell,” replied Alexis, in an- 
swer to Moritz’ cold question, as they returned to the library 
and sat down for a few minutes beside a window. She 
'sent her regards to you — something of that sort. You are 
missed by both of us ! Indeed, we have nearly decided, 
as I wrote you, to come down during the concert week, to 
remain here until the end of October. Of course you will 
come as soon as we arrive. I think our so doing is settled, 
and you promised, you know.” 

Yes, yes, you are very kind,” Moritz answered, in secret 
vexation. It was not advisable to object to these arrange- 
ments at present. You say you are both coming for the 
concert in any case ; if so, when do you come ? ” 

Let me see,” said Alexis reflectively, to-day is Mon- 
day, your concert is Thursday. Well, we shall be here 
before dinner-time on Wednesday evening.” 

Alexis got up and straightened an engraving hung awry. 
And you will probably remain here for some weeks ? ” 
Moritz asked, meditatively. 

Probably — and you with us. We can run up to the 
Lodge occasionally; but I think you and she and I will 
find this our pleasantest headquarters for awhile. After 
that, hurrah for Berlin and the production of your 'Paris 
and Helen/ that you have done me the honor to compose 


130 


JANUS. 


beneath my ancestral roof ! Apropos of roofs — isn^t it 
ridiculous that Nadine should only have been down once 
to see how the second salon is furnished — after all her 
anxiety ? 

Only once ! ’’ asked Moritz. “ When, pray, was that ? 
How in the world could either of you run down here with- 
out my knowing of it ? When was she in town ? ’’ 

It was one day last week. You went with His High- 
ness’ party to the Lustschloss, I heard, and I haven’t seen 
you since. Nadine and I came and returned by the train. 
This warm weather has made her disposed to keep quiet ; 
and, besides, she wishes the second floor to be something 
of a surprise to her. She has confidence in my taste, she' 
says, and always makes minor changes at leisure.” 

Moritz said no more. So Nadine had been in B ! 

probably in the expectation of seeing him, possibly for other 
reasons appertaining to him ! He thought at once of his 
renewed intimacy with Elsa Elbert. Had something of 
this reached her ears and excited suspicions that old influ- 
ences were drawing him farther away from her ? True 
to his nature, with a sudden cowardice he dreaded her 
jealousy. He remembered her remark that last afternoon, 
“ I trust you — not because I must, but because I do, and 
am well assured that no woman has supplanted me in your 
heart.” Only friendship for Elsa it was. How might she not 
misconstrue this friendship ? Nevertheless, had she not 
herself said to him, Besume your former life, your old 
associations, and learn to compare with other women the 
woman you have loved ? ” Thereupon he remembered again 
how carefully he had avoided betraying the extent of his 
most important association during his spring weeks in 

B . 

As if echoing his troublesome thoughts, Alexis turned 


JANUS. 


131 


as they left the house, and said, laughing, By-the-way, 
you sly fellow, do you know that there is abundance of 
gossip about the town concerning you ? Yes, you — and 
charming Braulein Ehlert. Oh, I don’t mean anything out 
of the way — uot at all. Only good folk say that you and 
she are indulging in an artistic friendship. I presume that 
is the proper term for it, since Fraulein Ehlert is said to be 
betrothed. Go to the Club, Ludwig ; I am going to walk 
down with Herr Beisse.” 

They proceeded on their way. “Eraulein Ehlert is, in- 
deed, a friend,” exclaimed Moritz, sharply, a good deal irri- 
tated ; “ so much so that I shall be thoroughly sorry to hear 
any stupidities circulated. She is, as you say, betrothed, 
and to a fine fellow. Your friends, the Brandts, can satisfy 
you or anyone else as to the folly of gossip such as you 
hint at.” 

There, there, my dear man ! ” replied Alexis, much 
amused, as they reached the corner of the street ; “ don’t 
take the trouble to defend so warmly what I make no 
doubt is a perfectly dispassionate state of affairs ! I don’t 
care for the chatter of the town ! I don’t want the Brandts’ 
explanations ! Give me a chance some fine day to meet 
Eraulein Elsa again if you choose — that I, too, may bow 
down and worship, along with the rest. I have had a good 
laugh already though, with Hadine, over the sly way in 
which you kept still all summer about your having been 
such a friend to this fascinating Eraulein before you came 
to us. Oh, you needn’t look so deceitful. We’ll forgive 
you, though Nadine told me to say to you that she should 
be jealous of any such platonic sirens, new or old.” 

The two men parted. Alexis turned into his Club and 
then took the last train for Gravenhorst. Moritz went 
home thoroughly disturbed and angry. His deception 


132 


JANUS. 


had found him out. Just at this juncture, when every- 
thing depended on his limited powers of diplomacy, what 
trouble might not arise from its discovery ! 

He himself discovered something else that evening. He 
took to unpacking a portmanteau, left undisturbed until 
now. The small olive-wood box previously mentioned 
seemed to have suffered damage. One polished corner 
was chipped. It looked as if some person, hurriedly open- 
ing it perhaps, had dropped it to the floor. He recol- 
lected that he himself had thus let it fall previous to quit- 
ting Gravenhorst. He put the box up again, frowning as 
he bethought himself of the correspondence in it. He wished 
he might never rest his eye on it again. I will burn 
those letters of hers,’’ he muttered, “ the very next evening 
I am alone ! Die schonen Tage in Aranjues — Sind nun zu 
Ende:^ 

Yes, quite at an end. But even if he might not have for- 
gotten his resolution, as he often forgot other important 
ones, one thing is certain — Moritz Reisse did not burn those 
letters. 


JANUS. 


133 


CHAPTEE XV. 

“ I have trusted thee, Camillo, 

With all the nearest things to my heart.” 

Winter’s Tale. 

The Duke himself appointed the last Probe for the cliar- 
itj concert, to take place on Wednesday evening; and 
signified his gracious intention of being present. Reisse 
set out for the Singschule at an early hour. 

He had heard that the Count and Countess von Graven- 
horst were come to town — had probably arrived at least 
an hour or so earlier. lie need not go to her house to- 
night ! — would not, at any rate, he said angrily to himself. 
He set off for the Singschule at a great pace. Suddenly 

he recollected that a letter from the good X , of Berlin, 

was due. He turned into the post-office. 

Yes, there was a letter for him, but not from Manager 

X . Moritz suppressed something not unlike an oath 

as he recognized Nadine’s distinct handwriting. The note 
was dated the preceding morning. 

I arrive with Alexis on Wednesday evening. This note 
will hardly reach you sooner. I break a sort of promise 
(to myself at least) as to writing you, that I may give 
you fair warning to invent any plausible statements your 
lively fancy prompts, to meet me again quite as outwardly 
free from any platonics [the word was underscored] with 
others as I have believed you. Don’t be alarmed, Moritz. 
A woman who loves as I do is easily placated. I congrat- 
ulate you on your successful reserve as to a certain topic, 
while our guest here — no more of that, though. Only remem- 


134 


JANirS. 


ber what I said when you departed — that 1 would trust you, 
I may repent saying more. Temptation gets the better of 
me. Listen. You ought to suppose that if by any accident 
or design any other woman comes between us it will be the 
worst of days for us all. Watch^ then, your heart, my 
friend. Please be ready to return to Miinsterstrasse with 
Alexis and myself, when the concert is over. Alexis tells 
me he has invited you. Adieu. 

S. — ’We stay some weeks.^^ 

The curse escaped Moritz's lips this time. Kesisting his first 
impulse to tear this precious communication up, he slipped 
it into his pocket-book. He recognized the infiuence of some 
sudden suspicion and of jealous anger. His self-control 
had been worsted, So help me. Heaven, I will make no 
peace with her, whatever she may do or say ! ’’ he exclaimed ; 

I am tired of servitude.’’ Thereupon he remembered how 
little, after all, he was in her power — that he, not she, was 
master of the situation. 

He turned the corner of the street. An athletic figure 
coming the other way nearly ran into him. 

Why, Eeisse ! ” exclaimed Alexis, shaking hands, 

are you on your way to the Singschule ? I’m glad I 
met you. I’m going there. Just wait till I step into the 
telegraph-office and answer a dispatch.” 

Moritz complied, “ Come, come, what are you about, 
away from your wife and your new house this evening ? 
he inquired, as Alexis reappeared and they walked on to- 
gether. “ You ought to be doing the honors at home, 
instead of running around to concert rehearsals, with your 
Bohemian acquaintances ! ” 

Alexis laughed. The new house is swept and gar* 


JANUS. 


135 


nished. But no wife is yet there, nor will be until to-mor- 
row evening, after your concert. Am I not free to amuse 
myself in Bohemia, with a clear conscience?’^ 

Until to-morrow night,” said Moritz, in surprise. 

And then so late ? Why are you not settled in town ? 
And did not the Countess accompany you ? ’’ 

^^No. Husbands propose, and friends — are indisposed,” 
returned Alexis. ^WVe w’ere within a half-hour of starting 
together from Gravenhorst. Everj^thing was ready, and 
our trunks dispatched, when up comes a message to Nadine 
from her invalid friend. Counsellor Otto’s wife. She has 
one of her ill turns. Nothing would do hut Nadine must 
come and spend the night there; so off she went. The 
Waldemars, who live close by there, drive down to-morrow 
evening to this concert. Nadine will remain to-morrow 
with Erau Otto, and come here in the evening with the 
Waldemars. I shall meet her at the concert, and then I 
will take her and you to Miinsterstrasse, for a glass of 
champagne. Your room is ready.” 

Thank you,” replied Moritz. I see. You are very 
kind.” 

The subject was dropped. Presently Alexis said, ^‘Can 
you keep a secret, Beisse ? If you can, I’ve three parts 
of a mind to tell you one.” 

will try,” Moritz answered. He spoke, thinking of 
another secret, represented by the letter in his pocket, 
which he had so long kept, and hoped to keep forever 
from the man at his side. 

I rather believe I should betray it to you, even if you 
wouldn’t try,” Alexis said, soberly. ^^I’m awfully dis- 
quieted, my dear fellow. A telegram came from Berlin, 
when I arrived in Miinsterstrasse, from my financial agent. 
The old North -German — the great Trust -Company, you 


136 


JANUS, 


know, with which our bank here is connected — is in a very 
unexpected and critical situation. The failure of that Lon- 
don house, last week, has proved a had business. Now if 
anything should happen just now to the North-German, I 
declare I don’t know what might not become of our concern 
here ! Nothing of the sort could occur at a worse time. 
I am nervous. I admit it. I can hardly hold myself to- 
gether. The rest of our Directors, though, are as cool as 
fishes about it.^^ 

“ I’m sorry you feel so,” returned Moritz. But perhaps 
the others are right in keeping cook Matters may not run 
at all awry. To be sure, no one has so much at stake, and 
consequently so much to lose, as yourself.” 

Exactly, It is best not to worry until something defi- 
nite occurs. I shall have another word early to-morrow. 
I am more concerned for Nadine’s sake than my own.” 

They entered the hall of the Singschule. “ You are late^ 
Herr Musikdirektor,” said the Cerberus, Biemann, as they 
hurried past him. 

Late they undoubtedly were, as Moritz perceived when 
they went into the auditorium and beheld the chorus, rising^ 
rank above rank on the stage, the orchestra in readiness, 
and Elsa Ehlert, as well as Fraulein Topp, Herr Sil- 
hersteim, and all the other soloists in their chairs, talking 
briskly together. Moritz began the rehearsal at once* 
Alexis made his way to the ducal box, where his Highness 
and party received him cordially. Among the group 
chanced to he a no less distinguished guest than the Duke’s 
cousin, old Marshal Calenberg (better known since his death 
by his famous posthumous work, The Military Equili- 
brium of Europe ” ), who was then visiting the Besidenz 
for a day or so. He had been a friend of the elder Von 
Gravenhorst, and was siiicerelj^ glad to see Alexis. 


JANUS. 


137 

The rehearsal ended rather earlier than usual, and Elsa 
awaited the coming of her escort. J ohann had had some legal 
errand on hand and, after seeing his fiancee safely to the 
stage, he had slipped off, promising to return before the 
rehearsal should end. Something delayed him. The crowd 
of singers and orchestra people all filtered away, and, 
Johann not making his appearance, Elsa finally accepted 
Eeisse’s arm. She bade Her Kbdel and his wife good- 
night, and left the building, quite among the last. 

Some moments later. Count Alexis, also detained, hur- 
ried out into the entrance-hall. I say, Herr Eodel,’’ he ex- 
claimed, spying the manager, have you seer Herr Eeisse 
go out ? Or is he in the music-library, downstairs ? 

“ Herr Eeisse left us about five minutes ago,’’ responded 
Kddel. He passed out with Fraulein Ehlert on his arm. 
He cannot have gone far.” 

Alexis uttered a surprised ejaculation. ‘^The sly fel- 
low ! To slip out of such an excellent opportunity for me to 
meet again his shy nightingale ! And I wanted him to 
come to Munsterstrasse for the night ! But no matter — 
too late now ! I’ll go to his lodgings, perhaps.” 

Alexis walked down the hall. Old Eiemann stopped him. 

Will the Herr Count see Herr Reisse this evening ? ” 
inquired the doorkeeper, respectfully. 

Possibly not this evening, but certainly early to-morrow, 
Kiemann,” replied Alexis, pausing. ‘‘Is there anything 
special — any message ? ” 

Eiemann produced carefully a red leather card-case, evi- 
dently containing letters and papers. “The Herr Musik- 
direktor must have dropped this here a few moments ago. It 
has his name on the cover. It caught my eye, lying yonder. 
He came out almost the last, wdth Fraulein Ehlert.” 

“You would like me to give it to him, I suppose,” said 


138 


JANUS, 


Alexis, good-naturedly. He took the article into his pos- 
session. “ But stay — will to-morrow do in case I cannot 
find Herr Reisse at his lodgings this evening ? 

** Certainly/’ returned Eiemann ; ‘‘ I don’t like to keep 
it myself, lest something should be missed and I be blamed; 
and I shall not be here to-morrow myself. Please be good 
enough, sir, to tell the Herr Direktor that the pocket-book 
has not been meddled with since he dropped it. I am a 
thousand times obliged to the Herr Count ! ” 

Alexis slipped his friend’s lost piece of property into his 
breast pocket and turned out into the bright moonlight of 
the street. 

“Ho use going to look for Eeisse for an hour,” said he, 
to himself. “ I’ll stroll over to Miinsterstrasse and see if 
there are any telegrams.” 

As Alexis reached the next corner, a gentleman saunter- 
ing leisurely along the almost deserted pavement saluted 
him. 

“Ah, Marshal,” Alexis returned, recognizing broad- 
shouldered old Calenberg, “ bow comes it that you have 
forsaken his Highness ? Whither bound, alone by your- 
self ? ” 

“ I learned of an old friend’s presence at the New Army 
Club,” the Marshal replied, continuing his progress at 
Count Alexis’ side. “ Are you going up the street too ? 
I shall be glad of your company.” 

The two gentlemen lighted their cigars. They walked 
slowly on in the brilliant moonlight, talking together. It 
was another demarche of Alexis’ destiny. What occurred 
in consequence of this chance meeting, and the ensuing 
conversation during their half-mile stroll along the silent 
boulevard can be recounted later. 


JANUS, 


139 


CHAPTER X VI. 

** Say that some lady, as perhaps there is, 

Hath for your love as great a pang of heart. 

You can not love her; 

You tell her so; must she not then be answered? 

Twelfth Night 

In the meantime, Moritz Eiesse and Elsa Ehlert went 
toward the young singer’s home. The evening being so 
perfect a one, our friends were laggards, rather uncon- 
sciously. Nevertheless, as the porter opened the door, 
Elsa turned to Moritz. 

It is not so very late,” she said ; father will be very 
glad to see you — and I should like to show you my an- 
swer to Intendant X on that matter I was speaking of. 

Come in for a few moments.” 

The feeling that tjiis was, in some sort, their last night 
of liberty, for some time at least, prompted both request 
and its acceptance. Moritz followed her upstairs to the 
tiny drawing-room. Ruprecht Ehlert sat there alone. His 
days of regard for such romantic matters as moonlight 
were long since over, and, Auolin in hand,' the old man was 
playing softly to himself. He rubbed his eyes, welcomed 
Moritz heartily, and asked many questions about the re- 
hearsal. Elsa went into the next room to make some 
changes in the letter to the Intendant. She completed 
them, and then came out and sat down by her father’s side, 
listening, rather absently, to his music. 

Presently both Moritz and she remarked how very 
warm the night had grown. The breeze had indeed 


140 


JANUS. 


died. Tlie sultry air was like midsummer come back 
again. Elsa unfastened the shutters opening upon a long 
balcony overhanging tlie garden back of the tall old house. 
Thereupon the sound of laughter and the jingling of an- 
other piano came uj) loudly from below. Young people were 
spending the evening with the lodgers of the second story. 
After dancing and frolicking until out of breath, probably, 
they had betaken themselves to walking upon their own 
balcoii}^ immediately underneath Elsa’s, or to sitting in the 
open windows. Magnified shadows and flarings of candle- 
light alternately rested on the low trees and shrubs of the 
garden. Moritz and Elsa stepped out, partly in curiosity, 
partly for coolness. 

As they stood there with the shutters closed behind 
them, listening and smiling at the sport going on beneath, 
so distinctly audible in the still night, there came a sud- 
den lull. Somebody was being urged to make some more 
music, Sing it.” Yes, yes ! Pray do sing it ! ” cried 
several voices entreatingly. Not overmuch pressing proved 
necessary. A few chords on the j^iaiio came next ; and 
then as Elsa leaned over the balcony with Moritz, a rich 
and passionate contralto ascended. The melody w^as a 
sombre, minor one ; the words, of the song were these ; 

“ I tell my heart I do not love him. Why 
Is it that, in his absence, all the room 
Seems void and empty, my blithe spirits die — 
f I look upon the mirth with wearied eye, 

And the gay music sounds like laughter in a tomb ? 

' “ I tell my heart that there are other men 

As much and more to it. Why then do none 
Stir these new thoughts within me ? make me think 
Of life and love as I have never done ? 

Why can no other man do this, save him alone ? 


JANUS, 


141 


“ Oh heart, much more I tell thee ! Yet I hear 
A voice, gainsaying all, within thee cry, 

‘ Why longer mock thyself ? Hast thou then fear 
To own the truth ? Ah, thou dost hold him dear ! 

So dear that thou must win his love or — die.’ ” 

The last chord of the accompaniment ceased. A patter 
of hands and a murmur of compliments mounted. Elsa 
Ehlert started as one awakened from a dream. She raised 
herself slowly from the railing, turning her face from 
Moritz. 

What a strange air ! and stranger, odder words ! ” ex- 
claimed the young composer, softly. “ More in fact like a 
sonnet than a song, wasn’t it ? I don’t know the author. 
Do ymu ? Wh}’-, you are cold, you shiver ! ” he cried, 

noticing her silence and agitation. Are you ill ? ” 

Elsa shook her head in silence. Her face, in the dim 
light from the closed blinds, looked wan. Tears, even, 
seemed to he glistening in her eyes. 

For heaven’s sake what has distressed you ? ” inquired 
Moritz, in alarm. 

Elsa turned from him toward the casement through which 
they had come out. 

‘^Nothing — nothing,” she responded, almost irritably, 
getting the better of her sudden weakness. Excitement 
— the fatigue of the rehearsal — folly ! The melody of 
that song was so wretchedly sad. Pray think no more 
about it — ever ! ” 

Moritz made no further response, remembering her re- 
markable, if very explicable, susceptibility to music. But 
at the same time he asked himself whether it could be pos- 
sible that Elsa Ehlert’s secret heart-trouble was so profound 
as to be suddenly quickened by a curious song to a degree 
that she could not try to disguise from him. 


142 


JANUS. 


Confused and abstracted, he followed her mutely into the 
apartment. E-uprecht had slipped away to bed. Moritz 
glanced at his watch and caught up his cloak and hat, 

I am ashamed of myself/^ he exclaimed. After all 
your hard work, too 1 I had no idea it was after eleven. 
Good-night, my friend.’^ 

Good -night,’’ Elsa replied, holding out her hand and 
speaking with a tremulous seriousness in her voice. 

With the von Gravenhorsts’ arrival, I suppose I shall 
see less of you — after to-morrow ? ” 

I’m afraid our holiday — shall I call it that ? — is over,’^ 
he answered, making light of her tone. Never mind, 
though. We have many more to come. AufWiedersehen^ 
and be fresh for to-morrow night ! ” 

He turned. Oh, wait ! ” exclaimed Elsa ; you forget 
my Berlin letter ! ” She took it from the table. Really • 
It is neither addressed nor sealed,” she added, smiling at 
her carelessness. I shall be only a single minute.” 

She entered the next room, leaving Moritz alone. But 
just as she closed the intervening door, a quick step sud- 
denly mounted the oak stairs leadin g to her apartment. The 
hall door was not shut, and a quick knock fairly pushed it 
open, authoritatively. Moritz looked up surprised. Johann 
Steins, rather out of breath, crossed the threshold and 
stopped short inside the drawing-room. A frown darkened 
his face at the sight of Moritz Reisse seated there un- 
concernedly at so late an hour of the evening. Moritz felt 
the conviction that the present rencontre was likely to be, 
for various reasons, an unexpectedly awkward one. 

‘^Is FrMein Ehlert safe home?” asked Johann, 
brusquely, hardly greeting our composer by so much as a 
nod. 

Good evening, Herr Steins,” said Moritz, with ill-timed 


JAirUS, 


143 

deliberation. Yes, Fraulein Ehlert is at home, and in her 
room, yonder, addressing a letter. She has been extremely 
anxious about you, Herr Steins — really concerned, in con- 
sequence of your failure to meet her at the close of the 
rehearsal. But she was kind enough to accept of my 
escort, ill your default, and since her return,’’ he added, 
with the same evil spirit of mischief prompting him, both 
she and I have speculated anxiously over your mysterious 
absence, with increasing solicitude— each hour.” Moritz 
himself had not been in Elsa’s drawing-room quite an 
hour. 

J ohann Steins’ pale countenance flushed, under the sus- 
picion that he overtly was made game of, and by a man 
whom he had come during the past three weeks to look 
upon as, in an exasperating if rather indefinable way, his 
rival and supplanter. 

“ I was detained necessarily, Herr Keisse,” he replied, 
looking straight into Moritz’s with an unwonted sparkle 
in his eyes. I am indebted to you for acting as my fian- 
cee’s escort. But — but let me tell you plainly, Herr Keisse, 
that the tone you use, and your presence in her house at 
this hour, are most offensive to me.” 

I am sorry for it, my dear sir,” responded Moritz, con- 
temptuously, amused at this direct outbreak from the 
mild-mannered young advocate, ‘‘ extremely sorry. But — 
as I did not come here to see you or to talk to you, per- 
haps you will have the goodness, even at this hour of which 
you so disapprove, to leave me to bid Fraulein Ehlert good- 
evening alone ? Or at least without further disagreeable 
interruption.” 

It was unfortunate that Elsa herself did not hear the 
two voices, rising into warmth, as she sat at her desk in 
the bedroom. But the heavy door of the old house was 


144 


JANUS. 


tightly closed. The lively party downstairs had again 
become hilarious in a noisy galop. 

I will not leave ! retorted Steins, fairly angry. And, 
by heaven ! when you do go out of that door to-night it 
shall he for the last time or I will never set my foot across 
it again ! This question has got to be settled and ended, 
here and now ! I am tired of it ! 

What do you mean, Herr Steins, by such an imperti- 
nent and silly speech ? exclaimed Moritz, catching fire 
in his turn at this open display of ill-temper and jealousy. 

What business is it of yours how many times a week, a 
day, an hour I cross this threshold ? Have you actually 
the audacity to suppose that you can control my move- 
ments ? Do you fancy you can forbid a single guest 
Fraulein Ehlert’s house ? ^ Settled and ended here ^ — 

Moritz repeated, mockingly, taking a step forward ; “ what 
in the name of sanity are you talking about, Herr 
Johann Steins, Advokat ? 

Steins raised his stalwart arm with an angry gesture. 
Before he could answer further than that, the door opened. 
Elsa’s ear had, all at once, caught the hot words. She 
gave a gasp of surprise and apprehension at the sight of 
her lover and Moritz facing each other thus, in hostile 
wise. 

Johann — you here ! ” she exclaimed. “ And — and you 
are angry? What does it mean ?” 

Johann closed the door behind him and turned to her. 
The young man’s face was set, with suppressed passion. 
His hand shook, as he stretched it out toward Moritz, who 
stood serenely regarding him with a scornful smile. 

“It means this,” he said, taking a step toward her and 
speaking in a lowered, but furious voice, it means that 
you must give up that man there or me — one or the other. 


JANUS. 


145 


I don’t know what he is to you. I don’t know what lie 
would like to he. I don’t know what you would wish of 
him ! But I say now, give him up you shall, or I will 
never see your face again.” 

J ohann ! ” exclaimed Elsa, in self-reproach, appeal, and 
a great fearfulness of what he might further say. 

Good God ! Do you think I am made of ice, stone ? ” 
he went on, in a burst. “ Do you think I can help seeing 
how with every day that he lives he comes more and more 
between you and me ? Do you think I can endure longer 
this seeing you grow fonder of him with every breath you 
draw ? Ever since he came back, the thing has gone on and 
on — no living creature could endure it ! ” 

Elsa, uttering a quick, gasping “ Oh,” turned very pale. 
Dnable to speak again she sank upon a low chair beside 
the bedroom door. 

Ah, how happy we were ! ” the advocate continued, in 
an accent of mingled anguish and despair. “How happy, 
until he came here with his accursed music ! ” The tears 
came to his eyes as he spoke, eloquent, for once, under 
his intense feeling. “You love him ! You know you love 
him ! I have had to stand by and endure such folly going 
on from day to day under my very eyes ! You will break 
my heart ! Eolly ? Yes, and a hundred times worse. Eor 
he does not love you. Not he ! Ask him if he does. Ask 
him. You have sacrificed yourself and me for nothing. 
And I, I have loved you as my life and soul ! What can 
I say ? What can a man do ? ” 

The young man’s voice failed him. He tried to control 
himself, to dash away the angry tears that had sprung to 
his eyes. He choked — was silent — gave a quick glance of 
wretchedness at the two people so cruelly at the mercy of 
his words, and then, forgetting his wrath in his suffering, 


146 


JANUS, 


he pulled open the door at his back and, with a strangled 
sob, rushed from the room. 

Moritz stood in a mingling of confusion and grief, ap- 
preciating fully for the first time how matters stood. Elsa 
had covered her face with her hands. She sat motionless 
and mute except for low sobs of nervousness and mortifi- 
cation. Moritz trembled ; but be approached her side and 
stood before her perplexed, annoyed, ashamed, guilty. 

“ Elsa — Elsa,’’ he exclaimed softly, urged by regret and 
sympathy. She made no reply. He laid his hand gently 
upon her shoulder. Can this be true, what this man has 
just said ? Bo you indeed think of me otherwise than as 
a near friend — your brother in art, for whom you have 
done so much ? ” 

There was yet no answer. Elsa drew herself away, still 
hiding her face. 

Speak, I beg of you,” he said, bending in increasing 
emotion at her side. Speak, and tell me that, at least, 
you do not hate me because I have discovered your secret. 
What a wretch I must seem to jmu now ! ” 

Still no answer. He took one of her hands and gently 
drew it away from her shielded face. Never, until his dy- 
ing day, did Moritz Eeisse forget the look, concentrated 
for a single instant upon him in that glance from Elsa 
Ehlert’s eyes. It asked the question Johann Steins had 
rudely bade her ask : and, alas ! it answered any he might 
have put. But she put out her other hand and pointed to 
the door, drawing that which he held away from him. 

He could not endure it another moment. The blood 
rushed to his face. “ Forgive me ! ” he exclaimed, starting 
to his feet, “ God help us. I do not, I cannot love you. 
I do not deserve that you should love me. Love in me is 


JANUS. 147 

dead, dead. Another woman — she — she has killed it, for- 
ever. God bless you. Forget me ! 

He turned from her, seized his hat and music-roll from 
the piano, and left the room. 

Moritz ! ’’ cried Elsa. Moritz ! ’’ 

The room was empty. No sound met her ears but the 
renewed tum-tum-tum of the waltzes and the patter of the 
dancers’ feet below. She tottered to the piano. Leaning 
upon it, she burst once more into suffocating tears. 


148 


JANUS. 


CHAPTER XVn. 

“ Nought but mine eye could have 
Persuaded me.” 

Two Gentlemen of Verona, 

Alexis and the Marshal walked slowly along an avenue 
from the Singschule and crossed the Park. The silver and 
shadow of the trees overhead, and the flecks of white moon- 
light on their path, gave a charming effect. 

^^A delightful concert to-morrow,’^ said the Marshal 
presently, “if one may judge from this rehearsal. My 
kinsman is fortunate in having so accomplished a kapell- 
meister at his service.’^ 

“ He undoubtedly is fortunate,’^ replied Alexis. “ Reisse 
is a very superior conductor too — and an excellent-hearted 
fellow into the bargain.’^ 

“You might likewise add, extremely personable, 
laughed Calenberg. “ The female chorus are more apt to 
keep their eyes upon a leader when he has a face and a 
figure. Aha, aha. Count von Grave nhorst,’^ continued the 
veteran, in his early youth something of a campaigning 
Lothario himself, “ what opportunities for conquests among 
the fair of all classes these musical men do have ! Lucky 
dogs!^’ 

“ The world has usually said that of men who wear 
epaulettes. Marshal,’^ answered Alexis. “Moreover, my 
friend Reisse has no such youthful follies in his heart; 
and besides, he says himself he is too busy for them if he 
had.’' 


JANUS. 


149 


'^Indeed I am not so sure about that/’ returned the 
Marshal. It seems to me — ” he stopped and for a few 
seconds seemed to be reflecting. Then he exclaimed, as if 
to himself, “ Yes — it must be the same man ! What am I 
thinking of ? Look here. Count,” he continued ; “ your 
friend Herr Keisse was once the hero of a, tremendous ro- 
mance, unless I much mistake — a romance which if only 
half-true would stamp him a gallant of the first water. 
You are his intimate friend, I know, and probably share a 
good many of his secrets. Has Herr Beisse ever spoken 
to you of some particular occurrences during his life in 
Italy?” 

In Italy ? ” responded Alexis, suddenly remarking the 
fact that Moritz had always been rather reticent as to his 
stay in that part of the world. At the same time he was 
highly diverted with the idea of getting hold of something 
new upon which to rally Moritz, besides the acquaintance 
with Fraulein Ehlert. Particular occurrences ? I 
don’t know. I think so. What of it, pray ? ” 

Has he happened to hint at any special amatory expe- 
rience in that ardent land — eh ? ” pursued the Marshal, in 
a more amused tone. 

“ Not at all,” replied Alexis. He knows how much I 
enjoy getting wind of anything of that sort with which to 
stir him up now and then. Not he ! ” 

Calenberg laughed heartily. “ You shall be gratified,” 
he said. When I was last in Italy, some few years ago 
— three — five — I forget precisely how many it is — I re- 
member that there was current, at least in one circle, a 
spirited story about him. I had quite failed to connect him 
again with it until a little while ago. Beisse was in Milan 
once, you may remember, bringing out one of his operas 
there. He had time, too, for a most luxuriant intrigue — love- 


150 


JANUS, 


affair — call it what you please, with the fair daughter of one 
of our countrymen then travelling in Southern Europe— 
a peculiar individual of decidedly doubtful caste. I can’t 
give you to-day any of the particulars ; they slipped 
my mind long ago. But at any rate there was billing and 
cooing, and finally a terrific tempest in a teapot. Either 
his friend jilted him or else her father discovered the affair. 
She left the town directly after something had happened, 
bag and baggage — left our composer to get over it as best 
he could. He must have succeeded in doing it pretty 
thoroughly by this time, I should say.” 

Alexis had listened with many ejaculations expressive of 
lively interest. He burst into a cheerful laugh. 

Oh, Beisse, Beisse ! ” he exclaimed, when he had recov- 
ered his composure, ^^wait until you are on your artistic 
dignity again ! Wait till you begin to talk to me about 
^best friends’ and ^ refer me to the Brandts for explana- 
tions ! ’ Thank you. Marshal. 1 will bring the color into 
that dark cheek of his, whether this Italian story has legs 
to stand upon or not. It shall be my theme, and I will 
improvise pretty variations on it. And now, seriously, 
Marshal, do you think that the tale has much truth in it ? 
Who, first of all, were the people ? The young lady’s 
name, and her father’s, please ? ” 

Old Calenberg answered him more seriously. By this 
time they had drawn near to the corner of Miinsterstrasse. 
^^Well, I am inclined to believe it substantially a fact, 
Count. The names ? Let me see ! It is so long ago. 
Yet I rarely forget a name. Wait — I have it ! ” he added, 
after an another moment : “ Lillienberg, — Hadine von Lil- 
lienberg ; and her father that notorious Count von Lillien 
berg, of Vienna. I forget what became of him.” 

Alexis turned toward his gossipy companion and looked 


JANUS. 151 

at him in the moonlight. He was fairly unable to grasp 
the meaning of the answer. 

“ What name — did you say — Marshal Calenherg ? ” he 
repeated, slowly. . He thought that a very disagreeable 
resemblance in its sound had given him a cruel start. 

‘‘Von Lillienherg,’’ returned the Marshal. “ I remember 
the name perfectly now. They were Viennese people — 
the Count and this only child. The beautiful Contessina 
ISTadina, Milanese society called her. Her father was an 
evil bird. He was a man of good family, but nearly beg- 
gared, and quite too successful a card-player to be an 
amateur. This daughter he expected to marry to the 
Trench ambassador’s son, but this affair — Good God ! von 
Gravenhorst ! ” cried the Marshal, cutting short these par- 
ticulars abruptly as he looked into his companion’s face. 
“ What in the name of Heaven ails you ? ” 

In the moonlight every expression of Alexis’ features 
was perfectly discernible. He had stopped, motionless, on 
the corner of the street. His teeth were chattering, as if 
with cold. His breathing was that of a man overcome by 
some sudden stroke. A clammy perspiration seemed to be 
oozing out through each pore of his skin. The old Marshal 
started forward, slipping his arm around his friend to sup- 
port him. 

The gesture and touch brought von Gravenhorst again to 
his senses. With them came the recollection of an instant 
necessity for that self-command which was destined, until 
the end of his life, to stamp this once impulsive young 
nobleman as a man of - no ordinary self-government. He 
made a nervous motion. His features became more com- 
posed. 

“I beg your pardon. Marshal,” he said, faintly and as if 
with no extraordinary effort, “ I — I do not need your help 


152 


JANUS. 


‘ — thank you. I have a sudden chill — my third one to« 
day.” He spoke more rapidly. No, do not, do not trouble 
yourself, for my house is only eight doors below — I will 
hurry there at once. Kunning will do me good. I insist 
upon your not troubling yourself to accompany me. I shall 
get to bed at once. Pray accept my apologies.” 

He turned from the astonished Marshal’s side, waving 
his hand impatiently. 

Eorgive my abruptness — good-night — good-night ! ” he 
repeated. And before the surprised and sympathizing 
Calenherg could stir from his statue-like position of sur- 
prise, Alexis had hurriedly walked away from him, reached 
the middle of the near row of stately residences, and was 
darting up a vestibule. 

Upon my word ! ” ejaculated Calenherg, turning on his 
heel in by no means good-natured bewilderment. A 
chill ? I should think so ! I never saw a man shake 
worse, or get to his bed with more ungraceful haste ! Those^ 
von Gravenhorsts never had any constitutions — or much 
dignity ! ” The ruffled veteran pursued his way calmly 
toward the New Army, now only a square or so distant. 
As he entered the doors he was finally struck by an idea : 

By the sword of Mars ! I wonder whether that unlucky 
story of mine did not join hands with another ? Some 
little love-secret of Gravenhorst’s — chill or no chill ! I de- 
clare I’m sorry I said anything. I guess I’d better not 
mention the matter to anyone, himself included, again.” 
With which discreet resolution the worthy Marshal en- 
tered the club reading-room, and, in the society he sought, 
forgot very speedily that there was such a person in exis- 
tence as Alexis von Gravenhorst, the stately old soldier 
being not only an excellent man, but a superior hand at 
ecarte. 


JANUS. 


153 


Meanwhile, Alexis, his cloak drawn across his shoulders, 
his whole frame still trembling beneath the tempest of 
suspicion assailing him, had entered his house. The servant 
opened the door at the sound of his step. He passed in, with 
bowed head. Looking neither to the right nor to the left he 
mounted the staircase and walked into his wife’s boudoir. It 
was in perfect readiness for her arrival the next evening. 

"From the instant that Calenberg had named the other 
actors in that Milanese story, and with such exactitude ex- 
pressed his convictions as to its truth, what hideous, irresisti- 
ble suggestions had entered the husband’s soul with every 
further word ! He appreciated, in the time of a flash of light- 
ning, his wife’s taciturnity upon that early visit to Milan 
with her father. And the delicacy which he had shown 
toward her history had led him scrupulously to avoid re- 
ferring to it ! He recollected how inexplicable had more 
than once seemed to him certain recent phases of her con- 
duct toward himself. The existence of a vague under- 
standing between Moritz Eeisse and Hadine presented 
itself, a sudden spectre of torment. Chaotic ideas, held until 
now in check by his destiny, were at last let loose against 
his soul. His first resistless impulse, to rush away and be 
alone, that he might fight off these miserable imaginings, 
he had obeyed headlong. He had felt that if he listened 
to Calenberg’s voice another instant he would have either 
cried out and betrayed himself, or fallen into a trance, or 
gone mad. He could not stop to ask another question. 
He had heard enough — if all were well; too much, were 
anything amiss. He scarcely remembered the subterfuge he 
had employed to rid himself of the Marshal’s society, as 
he lay there now on the low Turkish lounge in his wife’s 
boudoir, alone, save for the menacing shapes of shame and 
despair and vengeance that circled mistil}^ about him. It 


154 


JANUS. 


is doubtful if indeed Alexis von Gravenhorst thenceforth 
remembered any one thing a moment after doing it. The 
rest of his unhappy life might fairly be called the resist- 
less progress of a human intellect into a dream, each inci- 
dent of which was fulfilled, then forgotten in the next. 

Such quiet, frank natures as his may develop a sort of 
out-of-hand capacity for suspicion, most explainable by the 
theory that extremes meet. He remained stretched on the 
lounge for quite fifteen minutes, recalling what he had just 
heard — sick, helpless, prostrated. Then came the reaction. 

Idiot that I am ! he exclaimed, springing to his feet, 
^^Am 1 in my senses ? To credit a silly story born of 
some idle lie, passed from lip to lip, this fabrication of 
some flippant tongues. And to base upon such foolishness 
— what ? He burst out laughing, almost his old frank 
laugh. “Nadine and Reisse would scarcely know me! How 
can I face them after giving a second’s harboring to such 
ideas ? Forgive me, both of you,” he cried, apostrophizing 
them with a tear of shame starting to his eyes j forgive 
me, my own soul ! 

He began pacing up and down the room, frowning nerv- 
ously. “ There has been some absurd mistake I I will tell 
Nadine and Moritz. I will see Calenberg. Old as the 
stuff is, all shall be sifted to the bottom and nailed now 
lest it can really revive, to work serious mischief. I was 
an insane fool not to question Calenberg ! ” 

As he paced about, he brought his hand down in a gest- 
ure of displeasure with himself. The movement shook 
open the breast of his coat. Moritz Reisse’s red pocket- 
book fell to the floor at his feet. The few papers it con- 
tained were shaken out. Alexis stooped to replace them. 
There, before his eyes, lay the letter which his wife had 
written on the preceding day — the envelope showing bright 


JANUS. 155 

and white, with its well-known graceful handwriting plainly 
legible. 

There it lay. At any other time outwardly so innocent ! 
at any other time, the thought at once likely to occur to 
him that Nadine had written a casual note without mention- 
ing the circumstance ! now, now it seemed to fascinate his 
eyes with a horribly secret guilty significance ! He looked 
down at it very much as a horse starts — and then stands 
motionless, eying some strange, pallid object in a bridle 
path. Then he stooped again, stretched forth his hand to 
pick up the letter — then drew back once more. 

He passed his hand piteously across his forehead. Fin- 
ally he took theletterinto his fingers, and slowly opened the 
pocket-book. His lips were muttering some disconnected 
words now. A syllable or two of something very like to 
prayer seemed to be mingled with them. Then he 
tossed the pocket-book from him, and mechanically un- 
folding the envelope, drew out the letter. He sat down 
upon the lounge and read it through. He seemed the 
statue of a man so doing. He neither moved nor winced, 
though his face became almost like the face of one dead. 
He folded the letter up, and let the hand which held it 
fall upon the cushion. 

He sat immovable for a moment or two, upright, as if 
of stone. His eyes were closed. One could not have seen 
him breathe. All was intensely still. Downstairs, the 
five servants that had arrived in the morning from the 
Lodge had gone to bed. The city without was silent, 
except for the roll of distant carriages, or a locomotive’s 
shriek. 

All at once Alexis sprang to his feet. His face became 
suffused with blood, a fire seemed to dart from his 
eyes. 


156 


JANUS. 


Curse them ! ’’ he cried. The curse of God be on them 

bothl’^ 

He checked himself at the sound of his own voice. He 
pu^ out his hand to steady himself against the arm of a 
fauteuil. By nature capable of too intense feeling to 
express his agony in words, as he had in all his life been 
unable to express his love, from that instant he gave little 
outward evidence of the emotions decreed thenceforth to 
be his. A new idea possessed him. There must be 
others there ! he exclaimed. He caught up two candles 
from the chimney-piece and stepped quickly into the large 
dressing-room adjoining the boudoir. 

There lay his own portmanteau and trunks, opened and 
unopened ; and two belonging to Nadine. He tried his 
own keys. Thej^ did not fit other locks. He left the room 
and returned with a hammer and some other implements, 
forgotten by a workman. 

He began to force open the smaller trunk, which he rec- 
ollected his wife had been singularly careful in packing, 
and which she had hesitated to send before her with the 

rest when she decided to defer her departure to B . The 

lock finally yielded. He lifted the lid. He paused on 
taking out at the bottom the writing-case and the jewel- 
box with which he was familiar. “ Don’t baulk at your dirty 
work, mari complaisant!" he exclaimed, as he again realized 
his present occupation. He set the two articles on the floor, 
and knelt, hesitating, before them. This first ! " he 
muttered, attacking the jewel-case with a kind of intuition ; 
‘‘the other can come afterward.” He succeeded in break- 
ing the lock, after no small trouble. He tossed back the 
lid as it yielded with a sharp crack. Before him lay the 
diamonds that had been his wedding gift to Nadine, the 
enamels and gems he had delighted to lavish upon her in 


JANUS, 


157 


days of wealth and happiness — ^ncw forever over. He 
lifted tray after tray. He gave a low cry. His instinct 
had not misled him. Not in the writing-case, but here, 
thrust down underneath a pile of bracelets, lay a thick 
small packet — a dozen letters, in his wife’s writing, on the 
thinnest of paper, tied tightly together with a ribbon. 

They were the same letters which Moritz Eeisse had re- 
ceived from Nadine in Milan, years before, which he had so 
long preserved, and had read over to himself on that June 
afternoon ; the same that her caution had suggested to her 
secretly to extract from Moritz’s keeping one day when 
she was not likely to be interrupted in her successful search 
for them. Although long since she had remorsefully des- 
trojT^ed such souvenirs of her own, appreciating the danger 
of retaining them, she had rashly preserved these since a 
week before Moritz’s departure from the Lodge, unwilling 
yet to commit them to the fire. Now they were here, in the 
hand of her husband, to add any evidence they contained 
to the truth of the l^farshal’s statement. Alexis seized 
them, and laid the packet on the carpet by his side. 

After opening and thoroughly satisfying himself as to 
the contents of the writing case, and acting under a curious 
mechanical impulse, he began carefully replacing the valu- 
able contents of the jewel-case and closed its broken hasp. 
With a machine-like hand he continued. Finally he had 
actually deposited each article in the trunk, just as he 
had taken it forth, and duly shut down the lid. 

Now ! ” he ejaculated, rising to his feet with a short, 
mirthless laugh. ^^Now, Paris — Helen — Menelaus ! ” 

In the boudoir he opened the packet and read each letter 
quite through. He was as unmoved outwardly as before ; 
quite as much like a man in a trance ; only now he would 
sometimes pause over some word or phrase and pass his 


158 


JANUS. 


hand again across his forehead. He finished the last letter 
and leaned forward. With its fellows, and with that chief- 
est and latest one of all, the one he had shaken from out the 
pocket-hook, he saw clearly outlined before him a chain of 
history. Its missing links his own perceptions immedi- 
ately supplied. He sat there gnawing his lip, his eyes 
fixed now on the carpet, now on the ceiling, thinking 
matters out unerringly. 

Ho, not therij^ he exclaimed, but afterward — after- 
ward ! Then a change seemed to come. His face was 
convulsed like the face of a man tied down, to undergo 
some terrible physical pain. He rose to his feet, holding 
the last letter in his hand. 

*Ht is true ! — it is true he exclaimed. He groped, as if 
a mist darkened his eyes, and then fell, face downward, 
upon the rug. 


JANUS, 


159 


CHAPTER XYIII. 

“ Last scene of all, 

That ends this strange eventful history.” 

As You Like It, 

When Moritz Reisse reached his lodgings that evening, 
after leaving Elsa Ehlert, a second discovery to divert his 
mind from the bewildering one just affirmed was the loss of 
the pocket-book. Alarming thoughts of what results might 
follow this piece of carelessness stunned him. He scarcely 
shut his eyes that night. In the morning, dreading to 
show his face to any unknown finder to be met in the 
street, he hurried at once to the Singschule. He quietly 
searched, with intense excitement, every corner of the 
empty building. He reluctantly ventured to question the 
janitors. It was all to no purpose. He went to old Rie- 
mann’s lodgings. Riemann’s house was closed, and the 
old doorkeeper had gone with his wife into the suburbs to 
attend a wedding. There was small reason for Riemann 
to know anything that might help Moritz — at any rate he 
thought so; and in the evening, when he entered the 
Singschule, he saw Riemann’s alternate in duty in his post 
— another vexatious delay. 

He was nearly sick with apprehension. He dreaded 
every ring at the house-hell, every person he encountered 
in the streets, the advertising columns of the newspaper. 
If only the pocket-book and its contents might be lost so 
wholly that no one else would ever behold them ! Or if it 
might have fallen into the hands of some illiterate person 


160 


JANUS. 


and never be perused by human eye again ! But what 
slender and improbable contingencies were these ! How easy 
for some unknown enemy to employ such a fatal treasure- 
trove mercilessly against him^ and to hold it, like the his- 
toric sword, suspended above his guilty head, for any end t 
Keflections like these made his heart fail within him. 

Late in the afternoon, actuated by a resolution that 
would either be suicidal or afford relief in one important 
respect, he went to the house in Miinsterstrasse, and rang* 
the bell. A man-servant opened the door. His master 
was extremely busy ; had been writing all day alone in his 
bedroom, refusing to see anyone except (about an hour 
earlier) some gentlemen from the Bank. Moritz hesitated. 
Should he or should he not send up his name ? A sud- 
den shrinking came over him. 

‘^Ho, do not disturb him. In fact you need not tell him 
\ called,’’ he said, hastily. “ I will see him at the concert 
to-night.” 

And, lo I as he crossed the city in the dusk, on his way 
home, newsmen were busy on all sides because of the failure 
of the great North-German Trust Company of Berlin ; and 
speculations as to the possible result upon the two large 
banks of the capital seemed already rife on every corner. 

He dressed himself with feverish disquiet, and set out 
for the Singschule. In the artists’ waiting-room, down- 
stairs, he recognized Elsa Ehlert with several others of 
the singers. She bowed calmly, in response to his hasty 
salute. He was too uneasy and agitated to be embarrassed. 
He passed up to his music desk and looked about the 
beautiful concert-hall. 

In spite of any financial anxieties secretly agitating 
the city, a large and brilliant audience greeted him. He 
glanced across to the seacs where the Waldemars and Alexis 


JANUS 


161 

von Gravenhorst and his wife ought to sit. Their places 
as yet were vacant. As he turned to his music, an usher 
slipped a note into his hand. It was from Alexis, dated 
half-an-hour back, and apparently very hurriedly penned. 
Thus it ran : 

You have heard of the Korth-German before this. Our 

Bank cannot stand. Directors P and A have 

just set out for the Hague to avoid the storm. I would best 
go away myself. I shall leave B before midnight. Na- 

dine comes direct to me — the carriage will be in waiting — the 
moment your entertainment is over. She will wish to 
pack. I have sent a note to her by the same messenger. 
I understand that the Duke has a reception after the 
concert. There is no one except yourself to whom I can 
commit certain matters connected with this sudden step. 
Please excuse yourself from going to the Besidenz, and, 
above all, pray do so without letting anyone suspect that 
you are coming to Miinsterstrasse. Awkward questions 
might otherwise be asked you to-morrow when I am out 
of the way. I can depend upon you. Destroy this. 

“A.” 


Moritz had held his breath as he began to read. He 
finished with a certain relief. What he had lost had not 
yet fallen into the least desirable hands — Nadine’s letter 
was still unperused by the eyes of her husband ! 

Alexis has not a particle of dissimulation,^^ he said, 
within himself; ‘Har less than enough to write me such a 
note as this, if he knew what there is, after all, plenty of 
chance of his never knowing. Yet, great heavens! how 
upset must the fellow be I How crushing the effect of 
this cursed Bank affair, that he should be willing to escape, 


162 


JANUS. 


like a thief, in the night ! — willing to hide his upright 
head until the panic and criticism are over ! ” 

Of mismanagement, no man in B would dream of ac- 

cusing von Gravenhorst, or any member of the Bank direc- 
tion. The course seemed strange to Moritz, almost inex- 
plicable. He read the note over again, discovering nothing 
between the lines. lie tore it into shreds hurriedly, and 
put them irrto his waistcoat pocket. He ran his eye rapidly 

around the auditorium. Directors P and A were 

wont to occupy high seats on such evenings. Keither of 
them was visible. At the same moment he saw the 
Waldemars and Hadine taking their seats. Nadine 
seemed surprised at not finding her husband waiting 
there. But just then Moritz saw a servant from Miinster- 
strasse approach her. Nadine took a note from his hand 
and read it quickly. Her face cleared, and she asked a 
question or two of the messenger, who departed. Then 
Moritz saw her again, conversing smilingly with her 
friends. The Duke and the Court party made their ap- 
pearance, and the concert began. 

Moritz threw himself feverishly into the evening’s 
work. The entertainment was a perfect success. The in- 
stant it was over, he hurried out to the lobby to intercept 
Nadine. He greeted her hastily. 

Your note was from Alexis ? ” he inquired. 

Yes,” she replied ; you will come with me at once ? ” 
As soon as I get rid of His Highness’ affair. I must 
excuse myself,” he answered, abruptly, dismissing his 
scarcely-quieted hesitations as to going to Miinsterstrasse at 
all. “ I shall have to put you in your carriage with some 
other escort. It will be far more safe to join Alexis and 
yourself half an hour later.” 

“What on earth does he mean? He talks of some 


JANUS, 


163 


serious trouble with the Bank,” she asked, apprehensively. 

I — I know little more about it than you,” he replied. 

He will explain to you what he has to me. There is no 
time for it here. Pray lose none in reaching him.” 

“ I hear that the North-German has failed.” 

“ Yes j that is probably true. Alexis feared it, and you 
know most of his personal interests are bound up in it. 
Pray go.” 

“You will come immediately ?” 

“ Immediately. I must be civil to the Duke,” he an- 
swered, impatiently. 

Nadine assented in some annoyance to this. She seemed 
hardly to appreciate the force of her husband’s injunc- 
tions to Moritz to be secret. She was also not a little sur- 
prised to find that her maid had not come with the carriage 
as usual. But Moritz secured an eligible escort in the 
person of the venerable Court-Physician G , and has- 

tened to free himself diplomatically from his engagement. 

Nadine’s horses halted before the door of the house in 
Mtinsterstrasse. In the vestibule the great bronze lan- 
tern was burning. “No, I will not permit you to 
alight,” said the Countess, much to the relief of the gouty 
old gentleman. She stepped lightly down, with the foot- 
man’s aid. “ To the residence of Herr G ,” she added, 

to the coachman j “ and, after that, you may go to the 
stables.” 

She mounted the steps hurriedly and entered the vesti- 
bule. “ Where in the world can Christian be ? ” she said 
impatiently to herself, as she remarked the absence of the 
servant. But one of the stained-glass doors before her 
opened. Alexis himself had admitted her. 

“Well, my dear, here I am at last ! ” exclaimed Nadine, 
“and in a state of thorough mystification and concern. For 


164 : 


JANUS. 


Heaven’s sake, explain to me the cause of these inexplica- 
ble messages which you have sent to Reisse and myself ! 
Your note absolutely petrified me! — with its request to 
^hasten home’ — that it ^ might be necessary for you to 

leave B late this evening ’ — and I know not what all ! 

And, first, be kind enough to tell me where Lisette, Chris- 
tian, and Emil are ? Has there been a domestic 
emeuteV’ 

I have permitted them to go to the Postmen’s Ball in 
the Market Building,” replied Alexis, fastening the door 
behind his wife securely, and Heinrich and Dorothea, 
you know, cannot return from the Lodge until to-morrow, 
after my sending them- there again to-day.” 

Hadine let fall the glove she was unfastening by the 
light of the hall lustre. “ My dear Alexis, you are out 
of your senses. To the Postmen’s Ball ? and this my first 
night in our new house I Stop, stop ! I see,” she continued, 
throwing her opera-cloak upon a little settle ; it is part 
and parcel of some unaccountable affair. Come, do explain 
yourself, chapter and verse — ” She interrupted herself, as 
she raised her eyes to his face. Great heavens ! ” she ex- 
claimed, how frightfully pale you are ! Have you been 
ill ? How strange you look as you stand there ! ” 

A distinct change had indeed come over the face of her 
husband since last Nadine had seen it. 

“ Hush — pray do not speak so loud,” he returned, quick- 
ly. “I — I am well enough. Come into the library. I 
have been impatient for your return. You have heard 
the news concerning the North-German!” 

‘‘1 have,” replied the Coijntess. ^^You do not mean 
to say that it materially affects your own affairs ? or the 
Bank’s?” 

I can explain to you in a very few words what the 


JANUS. 


165 


failure of the North-German means for me — for both of 
us/’ responded Alexis, entering the library before her 
and walking to the opposite side of the centre-table. I 
could not write you. Since I left you, events of the 
gravest nature have chanced. But, stop ! ” he exclaimed. 

Where is Reisse ? Of what was I thinking ? Did he 
not come with you ? ” 

He will follow shortly,” responded Nadine. In grow- 
ing mistrust she studied her husband’s countenance and 

observed his singular manner. ‘^Court-Physician G 

accompanied me in the carriage. Herr Reissewas obliged 
to wait to excuse himself to His Highness.” 

“ So much the better ! ” said Alexis, in a low voice, appar- 
ently more to himself than as an answer. He sat down in 
an arm-chair at hand. “Pray be seated,” he said, abruptly ; 
“I had better begin my explanations to you at once, before 
Reisse comes. First of all, then, our Bank will suspend 
payment to-morrow. Several of the Direction have already 
fled from the storm. I have decided to follow their ex- 
ample, for it looks, at present, as if the Bank had collapsed 
forever. It means wreck ! The North-German has ruined us.” 

“Ruined us!^^ exclaimed Nadine, her heart standing 
still at the notion of such immediate eclipse of all her 
social glories. “Do you mean by us, you, yourself — you, 
yourself ? ” 

“Precisely as to my own situation I speak just now,” re- 
plied Alexis, calmly, keeping his eyes fixed upon his wife’s 
face ; “ and I must admit to you that the personal conse- 
quences to me are likely to be crushing in any case. The 
exact financial ins and outs I have not time to go into 
now — need not,” he added, impatiently. “ I shall certainly 
have to make great sacrifices to do my duty — put Graven- 
horst into market, sell my Berlin property, as well as this 


166 


JANUS, 


house here — all my landed estate, in fact. If I don^t do 
it voluntarily, I shall be compelled to it, I know. Our 
way of living must inevitably be very much altered, and 
that social position of which you are, I know, so justly 
proud’’ — here he looked at her keenly, and for the first 
time bitterness filled his voice — must suffer great con- 
traction, unostentatiously as we have maintained it.” 

Nadine looked at him incredulously, and in suppressed 
anger. The anger gave place to fear. His look, his 
manner were increasingly unusual. Had sudden calamity 
weakened his brain ? 

These are — these are strange tidings,” she said, making- 
an effort to control her mingled emotions ; strange tid- 
ings to welcome me to our new home. But you must not 
disturb yourself so absurdly, Alexis. You look positively 
unmanned. Perhaps all will not prove so adverse as 
would at first seem,” she continued, There must be 
much that can be saved. There is certainly some way of 
securing yourself, personally, against such grave loss — ” 

Alexis checked, by a gesture, so characteristic a sugges- 
tion. ^^Wait, wait an instant,” he said, sternl3^ He had 
risen and stood beside the table under the chandelier. One 
hand he held behind him. The other he extended toward 
her. His eyes were fixed upon her — that same penetrating- 
gaze, his face showing a rigidity now marble-like. Your 
advice — advice so natural to you, I may add — comes too 
late,” he replied, coldly. There is no way now that I could 
resort to. Pray keep your seat. I have not quite ended. 
I have another story to tell 3"ou, after which I have fin- 
nished, and will listen to you. There is something else of 
more importance than the Bank affair.” 

What ! ” exclaimed Nadine, downright fear seizing 


JANUS. 167 

lier as she looked at him. “ Of still greater consequence ! 
It must be — it must be altogether extraordinary, then I ’’ 

To me — ^yes ! ’’ replied he, quickly. I am not so cer- 
tain as to you. Let me tell you as quickly as I can. I 
had once a friend, Nadine; or seemingly a friend, at 
least — 

Nadine started and opened her eyes wider at this unex- 
pected sentence. Alexis went on : 

— He was young, talented, amiable. I believed him to 
be a man of honor, although I knew him to be hardly 
one of strong character to sustain itself under temptation. 
Too much of the artist-nature entered into him to permit 
this to be so. 1 well recollect you yourself,” he interpo- 
lated, dryly, “ sketching one morning a quite parallel 
type and claiming for the artistic element in it a morally 
strengthening principle. iTou do not recall the circum- 
stance ? No matter. In an evil hour, my friend 
ohanced to fall under the influence of a woman whom he 
had known and loved during earlier 5’-ears. Much, much 
was his fault — that I do not deny. But reading his temp- 
tress, as I afterwards understood her, and knowing him as 
I knew him, I dare not say how much more fault must have 
been hers.” 

He stopped abruptly. His wife was paler than he, now. 
She sat motionless, with parted lips, her eyes fixed as if 
by fascination upon his. He leaned over the table. She 
uttered a cry and started back as if to escape a blow. He 
had purposed none. 

My story ends suddenly. The rest of it is in writ- 
ing,” he said, bringing his hand from behind him and 
offering his wife the small packet of letters, as well as 
her last note to Moritz. “ Take those and you have — the 
rest of it.” 


res 


JAU^US. 


She seized them, half springing up, glanced at the 
writing, and then sank hack into her seat. Alexis remained 
behind the table. With his arms folded, he regarded her 
with a half-smile, the smile sometimes seen on the faces of 
death-masks. The clock ticked loudly upon the chimney- 
piece. 

What have you to say ? Or have you nothing ? 
came his passionless voice upon her ears. “ Possibly 
‘ requiescat in pace ^ — which was, unless my memory mis- 
takes, your former comment.’’ 

Nadine tried to speak. Her lips seemed powerless* 
Nevertheless, she presently recovered their use, her self- 
control coming to her aid under the torture of that merci- 
less interrogating gaze. She looked up even defiantly. 

It is all a lie ! ” she said. Those letters — that letter 
— it is all a mistake ! I do not — ” 

Alexis ceased to be stone. He gave a terrible gesture, 
and took a step to the right of the table. Her courage 
fled. She started from her chair, and put out her hands 
before her. 

I was innocent — I was innocent, Alexis — until he 
came to Gravenhorst,” she protested, in sudden confession 
and terror. “ Spare me — have mercy — ” 

Alexis drew back and resumed his former quiet attitude, 
with another contemptuous smile flitting across his white 
face. 

have no desire to harm you. You will discover 
soon, I trust, that you are fortunate in having a philoso- 
pher as well as a fool for your husband. You certainly 
have not an assassin.” He laughed. “ All is precisely as 
I supposed,” he continued, speaking to himself. “ And so, 
listen to me,” turning to Nadine, who had overcome her 
first spasmodic dread of him, and now sat motionless as a 


JANUS. 


169 


rock — listen to me. Under these unexpected hut, I con- 
fess, by no means unique contingencies, there are three 
things left for you to do. One of them you will do.’^ 

And they are ? ” she asked. 

He intended to reserve one element of the solution he had 
decided upon as soon as it had suggested itself. 

Continue, by a union merely one in semblance, to keep 
your good name before the world as my wife. Remain, 
I say, my wife in name. Share whatever decline in fortune is 
in my lot. Or else, subject yourself to a veritable separation, 
under conditions which I shall exact and which we can 
discuss together later. Or, last of all — ” He paused. 

Or last of all she repeated, quickly. 

Last of all,^’ Alexis resumed “ — and do not waste com- 
ments — you may accept my generosity. By that I mean 
that you may take what money I have in the house here 
— but it is no considerable sum, I promise you — ac- 
quaint your lover with what has occurred, and go from 

B with him now, this night, free, unrestrained, whither 

you please — leaving me to bear the disgrace and the con- 
sequences as I can. I am able to. I will keep my share 
in the secret, I faithfully assure you. How, which of 
these proposals best suits you ? I urge the last.^' 

“ That is infamous ! ” she exclaimed, rising to her feet, 
“ infamous ! How dare you, Alexis — how dare you suggest 
so monstrous, so revolting a proposition ? ” 

He regarded her excitement with undisguised scorn. 

Infamous ? monstrous ? ” he repeated, mockingly. “Did 
I not beg you to reserve your comments? I call it a 
singularly disinterested offer ! — amiable, when contrasted 
with the way husbands conduct themselves in the journals 
and romances. Treat the matter seriously — and without 
heroics ; for adopt one of these three proposals you in 


170 


JANVS, 


evitably must. As I said, I rather urge the last one. But 
pray go or stay, whichever you elect.’^ He shrugged his 
shoulders in indifference. It is to he doubted whether 
he was any longer entirely conscious of what he said or 
did. Alexis von Gravenhorst, jovial, careless, interested 
in his beautiful estate, secure and proud in the love of his 
wife and the companionship of his friend, might be said to 
have died the night before, when, grasping the packet of 
letters in his hand, he had fallen to the floor of his wife’s 
boudoir, overhead. 

Nadine gave a derisive little laugh, the ghost of a laugh. 

I will give you no heroics, then,” she answered. 
will try to consider your three proposals critically enough 
to please you. And you may be certain of one thing, Alexis ; 
our play is played out. It has not been a very long play. I 
neither admit nor deny Moritz Eeisse’s part in it. I may 
dissent from your advice now. But stay at your side a 
day longer than I can help, I will not. My God ! how bored, 
how intolerably bored have I been these months ! I wonder 
you haven’t discovered it 1 Do not think I am likely to 
let slip the first opportunity that has come to me for 
an effectual relief ? Such men as you — ” 

^^Such men as I ? ” Alexis repeated. ‘^Well, go on ; let 
me hear your observations on such men as I. They must 
be valuable and interesting. But, by-the-by, let me ask you, 
for what reason, in God’s name, did you marry such a man 
as I?” 

Because such a man as you had money and a title — of 
course,” she answered, sharply, leaning upon the back of 
the chair beside her and surveying him with undisguised 
cynicism. “ You were not my lover. You were my oppor- 
tunity. Nothing more. I never loved you.” 


JANUS, 171 

Lndeed ! ’’ he said, icily. I think you speak the truth 
now.’’ 

“No, I never did,” she resumed, with audacious frank- 
ness. “ early training was not of a sort to teach me to 
appreciate the moral excellences of your type. Oh, I tell 
you that to study them day by day, week by week, has 
given me as much ennui as to sit and look out of my window 
at some snowy mountain-peak. I abhor winter land- 
scapes. As for — for Reisse — I did love him. Yes. Isay 
it openly to you. I never forgot him, though I had sense 
enough to see the folly of marrying a man situated as he 
was, in time to — ” She interrupted herself, and mur- 
mured something in French. 

She had recalled the shattered faculties of Alexis. His 
forehead contracted. He leaned forward toward her. 

“ Hid you know that it could be nobody else, when I 
spoke of bringing him to Gravenhorst ? I give you the 
benefit of any shadow of doubt that may be available.” 

“You need not. I knew it, of course. Certainly.” 

“You expected the course of things to run about as it 
has?” 

“ About as it has,” she returned, calmly. 

“ Then jmu not only acted, but you premeditated your 
own share in it ? ” 

“ I suppose so.” Her indifferent tone plainly was not 
feigned. “ Yes.” 

“You assume — all your responsibility ? ” 

“ I assume — my responsibility — and all his. If he w^ere 
other than he is I should go further and wish to assume 
his punishment. But, to tell the truth, I do not think he 
is worth it. As I now regard him — no — decidedly no.” 

“Not worth it ? And yet you loved him and love him. 


172 


JANUS. 


^nd have wrecked yourself and me, your purity, your good- 
name and mine, for his sake ! 

Yes, in spite of tliat — or anything else. I am a wo- 
man horn to love perversely. Even now I love him — oh, 
yes ! — vastly more than I do, or ever could, love you. 
But then, you see, love with me is a relative term. I 
am not sure I can love!’’' She half laughed again. “I 
always knew he was not worth it, from some standpoints 
that I know about just as well as you and the rest of the| 
world, though I may not trouble myself to do much out- 
looking from them. Moritz Beisse, musician and com- 
poser, is at best — well, what he was and is and what his 
kind are. Let us waste no more time in analyzing him. 
Your three proposals need all I have. I have dismissed 
only one choice.’^ 

A ringing bell echoed in the hall. “That is — your 
lover ! ” he exclaimed. “ Admit him yourself. There is 
nobody else. I leave you. Arrange your plans. When 
they are decided, come upstairs and inform me of them 
— he reiterated. “ His face I will never willingly 
look upon again. That alone now I could not well en- 
dure.” 

Alexis turned abruptly and walked noiselessly from the 
room. She followed him into the hallway. He was 
mounting firmly the long staircase. She stood at the foot 
and followed the square-shouldered, manly figure with her 
eyes. 

“ Alexis ! ” she called, obeying some impulse to address 
him before he quite disappeared. 

Alexis halted midway and looked down. 

“ Eemember,” came his whisper down to her ears — “your 
choice ! ” 

He passed around the landing. 


JANUS. 


173 


CHAPTER XIX. 

“ The rest is silence.” 

Hamlet. 

With Nadine’s unlocking of the door Moritz entered. 
He started back at the sight of her white face. She put 
her finger on her lips and beckoned him to the library. 

Alexis knows everything — everything ! ” came her 
announcement when once within the room. 

Moritz gave a horrified exclamation. The letter ? ” 
he asked, staggering into a seat. His eyes fell upon it 
lying with the rest upon the stamped leather of the writ- 
ing-table ; the large pocket-book lay beside it. Alexis had 
placed it there before quitting the library. 

“Yes,” said Nadine, without giving him time for further 
ejaculations. “ You must have lost that yesterday ; and, as 
you see, I had myself taken these from your keeping be- 
fore you left us. I beg your pardon. It was a mistake. 
I am punished. We have not a moment to lose in un- 
necessary explanations. Listen to me.” 

“ But where is he ? ” Moritz gasped. He rose to close 
the door. Before he reached it he leaned against the 
wall for support. He seemed scarcely to possess the power 
to stand. Por a moment there was sdence. “Where, I 
say, is Alexis ? How comes it that — ” 

Nadine interrupted him. She had already determined 
to mislead him as to tlie course she had within these few 
minutes half resolved upon. What was so wise, since the 
certainty of her husband’s ruined finances and the end of 
her brilliant social career were manifest ? There was 
another alternative besides those Alexis had held out. 


174 


JANUS, 


I say, wait ! Listen to me/^ she resumed, impatiently. 

He obeyed in trembling confusion and unmanly terror. 
She uttered some hasty sentences. A sudden sound 
checked her. 

What was that ? she exclaimed. 

I heard nothing,’^ he answered. 

Hadine hurried past him, out of the library, and stood 
listening an instant in the hall. What she had heard she 
was sure came from the conservatory. 

^‘1 will be back in an instant. Stay here,’^ she whis- 
pered. Somebody — somebody is in the conservatory. I 
heard a sash dropped.’’ 

He obeyed her, and stood still on the threshold. Nadine 
ran softly the length of the hall, pushed aside the portiere, 
and opened the door. Within the conservatory, one of 
unusual size, the moon poured its full radiance. Bordered 
by a narrow walk of white gravel and masses of giant-ferns 
and palms was a little grass-plot, with a fountain, crowned 
by a statue, in the centre. Something that she saw, as her 
eyes glanced about seeking the figure of a servant or 
watchman, made her utter another exclamation. The por- 
tiere fell together behind her. She had gone further for- 
ward into the now still conservatory. Moritz left his 
post and followed her. Brom the steps he saw her kneel- 
ing in the middle of the grass-plot, beside the fountain with 
its tall statue of Truth. A long, dark object lay before 
her, over which she was crouching. Moritz took some 
trembling steps — aghast at picturing that — yet suspecting it, 
and came to her side. 

“What — what — who’ is it ? ” he asked. 

Alexis lay there — dead. One hand, still warm, retained 
the weapon he had just discharged. His other hand held 
some white objects — two letters. He had ceased to 


JA2fU8. 


175 


breathe. His regular, harmonious features, not dis- 
figured by a wound that had been instantly fatal, were 
upturned. His lifeless eyes, wide open, seemed to stare 
upward into the face of Truth, and on through the clear 
glass of the roof, into the radiant night-sky. 

Horrified beyond expression, Moritz uttered a cry, and 
then gasped as the certainty of what was before him 
became clear. “ Alexis ! Merciful God ! he is dead — dead ! 
He has killed himself ! ” he repeated. 

Nadine turned to him, half rising. ‘^Yes — he is* 
dead,’^ she said, in a tone of angry bewilderment that con- 
tained no particular accent of grief. And — and you and 
1 — we live.^' 

He would have touched Alexis’ wrist. Nadine leaned 
forward and struck away his hand from that of the dead. 

“ Neither must I touch him ! ” she exclaimed, in an awed 
voice. “ Get up ! Follow me quickly.” 

Moritz obeyed. As they turned a rose in her hair was 
loosened. It fell, striking the dead man sharply on the 
mouth. She put her hand to her head — noticed the flower 
fallen, but did not offer to move it. The rose slipped from 
Alexis’ lips to the moss. The crimson petals stained them- 
selves a deeper crimson by that in wnich they now rested. 
It was an allegory. 

Moritz followed her from the spot. She remounted 
quickly the stone steps. They stood in the library again. 
Then he noticed that she held in her hand the letters 
she had taken from the hand of Alexis. Moritz looked 
over her shoulder as she read, holding them tightly in her 
wax-like fingers. The first seemed to be but a blank 
card, unenclosed. On it was written in a firm hand ; 

To Paris and Helen. I am true to my philosophy 


176 


JANUS. 


Do you remember it ? ‘ Menelaus kills himself.’ Destroy 

this with the rest. You are secure.” 

The second was a sheet in an envelope, unsealed. It 
was directed to Nadine : 

“ I cannot face poverty and give up Gravenhorst. The 
ruin of the Bank is my ruin. A. von G.” 

Nothing more. Not an allusion, not a syllable, betray- 
ing the shameful secret of false wife and false friend, which 
alone had brought him to this end. No maledictions, not 
even a reproach ! Both letters, unquestionably, had been 
prepared hours before, in quiet readiness for the event — in 
strange self-sacrifice as well as in unspeakable bitterness 
of spirit. 

Nadine drew in her breath sharply. She threw the 
second letter down. “Quick!” she exclaimed, “give me 
those yonder 1 Each one. Be careful I He is right ! 
Our secret is safe — it is safe, thanks to him.” 

She pushed the other letters and the note addressed 
“ To Paris and Helen ” into the grate, where a few embers 
still smouldered. She held a candle beneath them. In a 
moment all were ashes. She rose and turned again to 
Moritz. 

“ Look !” she said, pointing to them. “ I say with 
him, our secret is safe! Do you not understand? For 
your sake, I am not sorry ! This other letter I will re- 
place. Now listen to me. Did any soul know of your 
coming here to-night ? ” 

“ No,” he replied, tremblingly. “ I do not think it 
possible anyone could. I obeyed his wish — 

Nadine interrupted him. “ Very good ! ” she continued, 
hurriedly. “ You must quit this house at once ! The 
servants cannot return for an hour or so yet. In any 


JANUS. 177 

event, this — unexpected thing can hardly become known to 
any, except us two, before morning.” 

“Quit this house now!” he cried. “You are mad I 
Lost we may he 1 Lost, then, we will he together 1 I 
have borne my part ; I will hear it still. What will you 
do ? In spite of this letter here, in spite of the destruc- 
tion of those yonder, there will he examinations. You 
will he interrogated, I shall be — ” 

“ Evidently you are not thinking of what you say,” she 
returned, looking calmly into his blanched face and terri- 
fied eyes. “ I see, at least, if you do not, how all has been 
provided for, taken into consideration, by him. I cannot 
stop now to discuss it. One thing only is an absolute 
necessity. You must go at once, without losing an in- 
stant. Oh, once more, I beg you to trust everything to 
me! I tell you, I foresee all that must be done. I am 
fully equal to it. You would hinder,^ not help. Your 
presence wdll ruin all. Have you lost confidence in my 
resources ? ” she added, irritably. “ For what reason, pray ? 
I will find means of communicating with you to-morrow, 
I tell you. Go ! Go ! Another moment here, and you 
may undo yourself and me ! ” 

Bewildered, mute, Moritz nodded his head. He seized 
the recovered pocket-book, concealed it safely in his cloak, 
and hurried behind Nadine through the hall. 

“ Wait — ^be careful of your shadow on the door,” she 
whispered, as the light fell upon him. She looked at him 
as he drew his cloak around him. Their eyes met an 
instant — for the last time. 

“ Gas-light and alarm are curiously unbecoming to you,” 
she said; and then added, mockingly, “and — and — your eyes 
seem to accuse me as the most to blame for all this. Eh ? " 
He said nothing, and fumbled with his glove. “ Well — 


178 


JANUS. 


I once expected to combat such a charge, and successfully. 
But now it seems scarcely worth while, after all. Let it 
pass. As you will ! ” He placed his hand upon the door. 
“You will hear from me early to-morrow,” she added. 
“Have no fear — though the artist -temperament allows a 
man to fear.” 

Nadine bolted the doors noiselessly at his back. Moritz 
glided down the black side of the street, and, meeting no 
one, safely crossed the Park. He gained his own lodgings 
unrecognized. 

Reisse gone, Nadine slowly returned to the library. Thank 
Heaven, no sign of the servants yet, nor likely to be any ! 
Her nervous strength was almost at an end — but she must 
make its remnant suffice for what she had to do — and would 
do. She sat down exhausted, haggard, in an arm-chair by 
the door. She did not weep now, any more than a little 
while earlier. Her dry eyes seemed aware of no material 
objects in front of them. Once or twice she clasped and un- 
clasped her fingers, as if in the abstraction of some supreme 
and concentrated reflections, and a deep line came between 
her eyes. Some moments passed thus. Then an exclama- 
tion, and once more a note of scornful laughter escaped her 
lips. “ No use ! ” she ejaculated. 

She rose with a start, hurried about, extinguished the lights, 
and shut the door behind her. She went softly upstairs. 
Ten minutes later she descended. All the time she had held 
in her hand the one letter remaining of the two Alexis had 
written. She put out the hall chandelier, first glancing at her 
face and toilette in the mirror beside the clock and arranging 
a stray lock of her wonderful hair. The clock was just upon 
the stroke of eleven. She drew her white cloak about her, 
glided to the conservatory door, and passed within, closing 
it carefully after her. 


JANUS. 


179 


CHAPTER XX. 

“Like an old tale still, which will have matter to rehearse, 
though credit be asleep and not an ear open.” 

Winter's Tale. 

The next morning B was electrified with the news 

of the suspension of the Bank. An hour later succeeded 
the shocking intelligence that Count Alexis von Graven- 
horst, so largely interested in the concern, had taken his 
own life in consequence of its downfall, and that his beau- 
tiful wife, the Countess Nadine, arriving home late from 
the concert of the preceding evening (and undoubtedly 
losing her reason at the discovery), had poisoned herself, 
alone, in the empty dwelling. The body of the Countess 
was discovered lying beside that of her husband. In his 
hand was a letter he had directed to her, signed “ A. von 
G.,” declaring his motive for committing his desperate 
act. 

There was an immediate investigation. But nothing 
further was developed. The melancholy affair seemed 
quite explainable by explicit testimony from the dead. A 
couple of visitors from the Bank in the morning, and the 
servants busy about the house throughout the day, also 
bore witness to Alexis’ strange appearance and manner 
during the last twenty-four hours of his life. 

Moritz Reisse was not even summoned officially to throw 
any light upon matters. It was made plain that he had 
not even seen his unhappy friend after the rehearsal in 
the Singschule, when von Gravenhorst stood at his side. 


180 


JANUS. 


alert and cheerful, evidently as yet unacquainted with the 
extent and certainty of his approaching financial ruin. 
Even old Riemann’s vague interrogations as to the return 
of the pocket-book were satisfied by a reply from Moritz 
himself. As to the jewel-case, broken-locked but unrified, 
Nadine von Gravenhorst’s voluble maid “ perfectly remem- 
bered ” (and described) an accident of a day or so earlier 
apparently explaining that matter satisfactorily. 

Marshal Calenberg, true to his resolution, breathed no 
syllable of his own disagreeable suspicions, out of respect 
for the honor of the young nobleman whom he had known 
and admired, as he had his father before him. Some years 
later the Marshal became tolerably assured, from certain acci- 
dental discoveries elsewhere, that some of his surmises at the 
time had been more or less correct. Nevertheless, he always 
held his peace. Elsa Ehlert, who possibly divined matters 
better than anyone else, likewise kept her lips sealed forever. 

She never saw Moritz Reisse again, except in passing. 
Reisse did not go to Berlin that winter. Immediately after 

the tragedy he quitted B , apparently overcome by the 

frightful conclusion of his friendship with the von Graven- 
horsts. He seldom spoke of them. He returned to south- 
ern lands and came north no more, forwarding the score 
of his “ Paris and Helen ” to the Intendant in Berlin, and 
breaking that part of his contract which called for its 
production under his own personal supervision. In con- 
sequence of this change, certain difficulties arose relative 
to bringing it out. They ended in the consigning of the 
opera score to the dusty shelves of the Opera, and Elsa 
Ehlert made her appearance in a work from another 
pen. Some years later, the autograph and only MS. of 

Paris and Helen ” was accidentally burnt, with some 
worthless material, in a private library ; and thus no one 
over again heard a note of the genuine masterpiece that 
Moritz Reisse wrote during the summer of 185 — at Gra- 


JANUS. 


181 


venliorst. Reisse found Dresden and Municli altogether 
convenient and pleasant refuges. He went, later, down into 
Italy again. 

For a time, it is true, he was seen little in fashionable 
society. Some watchful persons noted that there hung 
about his manner not only the depression of one to whom 
a tragedy has come very near, but a restlessness and an 
odd, nervous apprehension, not shaken off during many 
months. However, this quite passed during the following 
summer, when Moritz’s intimacy in Switzerland with the well- 

known Dalmatian actress, Renata V , was warmest. This 

year and the two years following proved to be his most 
brilliant ones as a composer. His powerful opera “ Vathek,” 
emphatically of the advanced school of modern operatic 
writing, and hardly second to his “ Paris and Helen ” as a 
score; his dramatic yet profoundly devout oratorio “Gol- 
gotha ” (dedicated, by-the-bye, to the lovely Renata) ; his 
Adriatic Symphony,” and the remarkable Mass in A, fol- 
lowed each other with cumulative successes. Those who 
saw most of him often commented upon the lack of any- 
thing in Reisse’s personality, intellectual or moral, suggest- 
ing the elevation and force of his finer work. But that 
riddle is not new. Shortly after conducting some special 
performances of “ Vathek” in Venice, Moritz was spoken of 
in German musical circles as having betaken himself to 
Rome, giving himself out as disinclined to do any composing 
for a while ; and presently there was a report abroad that 
he had grown unwisely fond of the wine-bottle. It was in 
Rome, nevertheless, that he considered as the subject for a 
sacred opera — “ Salome but he must have written little or 

nothing on it. At length there reached Elsa Ehlert’s ears 
only vague and anything but creditable accounts of him. 
But one day her glance fell on a paragraph in a newspaper, 
in which it was reported that Herr Moritz Reisse, the dis- 


182 


JANUS. 


tinguished composer, had been accidentally drowned at 
Bellaggio. The story proved true. Such was the end of 
the composer of “ Prinz Max ” and “ Paris and Helen.” 

Elsa Ehlert sang throughout the length and breadth of 
Germany and Austria, and made for herself a wide reputation 
with the German-speaking public — now only recalled by the 
oldest generation of opera-goers or through the pages of 
musical dictionaries. As may be supposed, she gradually 
became profoundly interested in the genius and troubled 
career of Richard Wagner; and to two or three analytical dis- 
cussions which Wagner and she had happened to have one 
summer at a Kur Wagner often referred, in alluding to the 
roles which had been their topic. Her stage-life, however, 
was concluding, just as the period of Wagner’s general tri- 
umph approached. Moreover, Fraulein Ehlert once chanced 
to hear a young singer in Vienna, in a light-opera part, and 
was curiously impressed with her voice. She asked to be 
presented to Fraulein Amalia Materna. “ You ought to go 
very far in art, my dear,” she said, earnestly. “ There is the 
same stuff in your voice and artistic nature of which are 
made the Schroeder-Devrients and Johanna Wagners. We 
shall see — though, by-the-bye, I may not be here to applaud 
you.” Her prediction was true. 

She never married. The world knew that many an hon- 
orable and wealthy alliance was tendered her. But no — 
she moved through her brief career calm, passionless, save 
when on the stage, apparently an artist whose heart was inca- 
pable of loving anything except her art. And so she always 
said. She died in Styria, a few years ago, while visiting some 
old friends, having wholly retired from professional life. 

She rarely sang in the “ Prinz Max,” as it grew older. It 
no longer suited her voice, she said ; and, long ago, her role 
of Zatime passed into oblivion with the rest of Reisse’s 


JANUS. 


183 


opera. Its score, now mute forever, is to-day in the autograph 
collection of a well-known and wealthy amateur of Leipsic. 

A year before Elsa left B— for the last time she heard 

of the marriage of her former lover, Johann Steins, to his 
once relentless opponent, Bertha Grauschimmel. Such re- 
venges upon opinion and circumstance doth the whirligig 
of time bring in ! 

In B and certain other localities, older society still 

alludes now and then to the melancholy death of von 
Gravenhorst and his wife — “ in her despair and anguish,” as 
one of the leading fashionable journals expressed it. The 
sad affair was emphasized when later developments proved 
how completely ruinous were the ultimate consequences to 
the Count’s estate of the complicated difficulties of the Bank, 
which after a brief struggle ceased to exist. Gravenhorst 
eventually passed, with everything else, to creditors in 
Berlin. The lonely country-house remained shut up for 
years, until, with the death of his Highness, the succeed- 
ing Duke purchased it. It is now occasionally occupied as 
a Court summer residence. The stately music-room, how- 
ever, was burnt down in a thunder-storm, a year or so sub- 
sequent to its new ownership, and no other one has since 
been built. The beauty and talents of the Countess Nadine, 
and her passionate attachment to her husband, are always 
part of the story when the former owner of the place is 
named, or the site of the destroyed music-room pointed out. 
The most sympathetic narrator of any tragic associations 
attaching to Gravenhorst Lodge is the present Duke, who 
counts them as part of the capital of history coming into 
his hands with the property. He is, it may be added, as 
profound a believer as are many worthy people in what they 
feel assured are the highly satisfactory relations between 
morals and art. 



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ii ' I 'HIS is a good time to read Herman Melville’s delightful 
books, and ‘Moby Dick; Or The White Whale,’ is one of 
intense interest. It is now, for the first time, issued in paper 
covers. It verifies the truth of the old song : 

Oh, the rare old whale, ’mid storm and gale. 

In his ocean home will be 
A giant in might, where might is right. 

And King of the boundless sea. 

“The habits, life history, and sensational death of the great white 
whale, whose skeleton was found to measure seventy. two feet, are 
told in an absorbing manner in this excellent volume, whose literary 
merits are of the highest order. One of the many interesting feat- 
ures of the book is the faithful representation it affords of seafaring 
men of different nationalities. In one instance we find, working 
together in the same night watch, sailors from France, Spain, Den- 
mark, England, China, Iceland — and Long Island. Their sea chants 
and ship parlance are given in English and afford the reader a study 
in rhetoric. 

“The book is printed in large type, on excellent paper, and is 
enjoyable, with equal relish, by both old and young readers. Its 
interest is increased by its excellent full-page illustrations. At the 
close of the book are several pages of extracts from the writings of 
various authors having reference to the whale.” 

THE CUBAN LIBERATED; Or Saved by the Sword. 

A Novel., by ROBERT REXDALE [Re-issued). i2/?io; 

226 pp.; paper., jo cents. 

''T^IIIS is a story of 1869, portraying marital jealousies, and pre- 
senting kaleidoscopic views of American, English, Spanish 
and Cuban types of character. It portrays the persevering pluck of 
the Cuban spirit and speculates as to the outcome of the chronic 
Spanish-Cuban difficulties. The language of the book is simple and 
unaffected. A silken thread of romance is woven in its pages. 
Added to its commendable features are the facts that one can, 
without effort, lay down the book at an instant’s notice, and take it 
up again as willingly when opportunity presents itself.” 

( 5 ) 


CHRISTINE. 


A Novel, by ADELINE SERGEANT. i2mo. 32 S 

pp.; paper, 30 cents. 

HIS new, paper-covered edition of ‘Christine’ will be appre- 
dated everywhere by the many readers of Adeline Ser- 
geant’s books. Let the reader follow ( in the book ) the romance 
of the volume, and he will be rewarded. Let us point the way — the 
quoted phrases are titles of some of the consecutive chapters : 
‘ Uncle Tom ’ will introduce him to ‘Christine,’ next the reader will 
pass through ‘ the shadow of a dream ’ and arrive at ‘ Col. Lingard’s 
house’ listen to ‘the Colonel’s plans,’ and discover that some one is 
being ‘ spied upon.’ Next he will meet ‘Miss Daisy Touchwood,’ 
one of the prominent characters of the book. ‘Mr. Hoskins remon- 
strates,’ but ‘ a strange welcome’ is afforded. ‘New friends’ next 
appear, and a ‘proposal of marriage’ is made ‘in the moonlight.’ 
Near by, ‘ only next door ’ ‘ a revelation,’ ‘at midnight,’ is made. 
After ‘ missing a train,’ the reader is startled by a ‘great surprise,’ 
and begins to contemplate ‘the return journey.’ Just then ‘an 
accusation’ leads to ‘ a great temptation,’ but ‘ a loyal heart,’ dis- 
tinguishes between ‘light and darkness.’ ‘Mr. Hoskins to the 
rescue ’ precedes the exacting of a ‘promise me,’ and ‘deliver us 
from evil ’ is the prayer that breaks in upon ‘the memory of the 
just’ at the end. It will repay the reader to fill in between the 
lines by reading the novel.” 

THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. 

A Romance, by ELLEN E. DICKINSON {^Re-issued), 
i2mo; 2y 3pp.; {illustrated), paper, 30 cents; cloth, ^i.oo. 

H ’^HIS volume is one of particular interest to all concerned for 
the welfare of that praiseworthy organization known as ‘The 
King’s Daughters.’ All through the book much truth is told, to which 
no exceptions can honestly be taken. An Anti Gossiping Society is 
advocated by the author, who deals some trenchant blows in various 
directions among the ‘upper ten.’ Society girls, as such, also come 
in for their share of attention'by way of sundry lessons reflecting 
on their behavior. The story unfolds no little romance, and must 
leave its impression on the reader. The book is beautifully printed 
in large clear type and contains twelve full-page half-tone en- 
gravings.” 


THE LITTLE MINISTER. 


A Novel, by J. M. BARRIE. 12 mo.; paper, (illus- 
trated) ^ 50 cents ; cloth, gilt top, /j' cents ; cloth, illus- 
trated, $i.2^\ Kirriemuir edition, illustrated, 2 vols., 
gilt top, 8 VO., $2.00. Edition de Luxe, illustrated, with 
a duplicate set of etchings, etc., two vols., 8 vo., $12.00 

GREAT novel” — Philadelphia Press. ‘‘A remarkable book” 



— Buffalo Commercial. “Charming” — Godey's Migazine. 


“ Undoubtedly a literary gem ” — Chicago Herald. “ One of the most 
attractive pieces of fiction” — Public Opinion. “Symbolical of all 
that is sweet, pathetic and delightful in literature” — San Francisco 
Call. “ It is unique, wonderfully human ” — New York Delineator. 


THE DUCHESS OF POWYSLAND. 


A Novel, by GRANT ALLEN. i2mo.\ SSS PP-', paper, 
j'o cents ; cloth, $1.00. 

HOSE who have not read Grant Allen’s ‘ Duchess of Powys- 



land,’ of which a paper covered edition is now issued. 


should do so. The operation of the Criminal Courts of London in 
the curious case of the Duchess affords a remarkably strong illus- 
tration of the possibilities and probabilities as regards the real 
facts in the case of Mrs. Florence Maybrick, who remains im- 
prisoned there ; while many thousands of Americans believe her 
positively innocent of the charge of murder for which she suffers. 
Nor does the story reflect favorably upon the continued refusal of 
the English officials either to make or receive further reports 
upon, or, in any way, or upon any grounds whatever, entertain 
new evidence in the case. The trials of the American heiress who 
marries the English Duke for his title, affords both warning to the 
adventuresome, and encouragement to the more prudent and 
patriotic among our daughters. The phase of hereditary insanity 
which manifests itself in every member of a family, and that in 
only one characteristic strait, namely, suicide, is strange and 
affords an incentive to profitable thought and study. 

“ Dramatic situations, crime and virtue, plot, dialogue and dis- 
criptions, combine to make this book fascinating.” 


( 7 ) 


TALES OF SOLDIERS AND CIVILIANS. 

By AMBROSE BIERCE. i2mo.\ 300 pp.\ paper, 30 
cents.\ cloth, ^i.oo. 

n ' I 'he most competent critics declare it [‘Tales of Soldiers and 
Civilians’] a greater book than ‘ The Red Badge of Cour- 
age.’ ‘Tales of Soldiers and Civilians ’ is an extraordinary book. 
The abuse it will receive from those who are not competent to> 
appreciate its extraordinary power will be as gratifying to the auth- 
or as will be the praise it certainly will receive from those who are.’^ 


SUNSET PASS; Or^ Running: the Gaunlet Througfh 
Apache Land* 

By CAPT. CHARLES KING. j 27 no.\ 203 pp.\ (illus- 
trated) , paper, 30 cents'^ cloth, $100. 
a HERE is no better writer of realistic military fiction from a 
‘Far West’ point of view than Capt King, who was an 
officer of the U. S. Cavalry, and of Artillery. He knows whereof he 
writes. ‘ Sunset Pass ’ is a typical spirited story ; one that is en- 
joyable by young and old. The book is illustrated with about 
twenty full-page pictures.” 


A DEBT OF HONOR* 

By MABEL COLLINS. i2mo. 220 pp.', paper, 30 
cents ; cloth, ^ i.oo. 

a T^EPTH of feeling, subtlety of analysis, and character study, 
qualities and exercises essential in a literary theosophist, 
and in which this authoress excels, render good service to her pea 
in tne field of fiction. Her novel ‘A Debt of Honor,’ a new edition 
of which is issued in paper covers, is, it maybe said, her best book. 
Smiles and tears commingle and chase each other in its pages and 
reflect themselves in the faces of its readers.” 


AS THE WIND BLOWS* 

A Novel, by ELEANOR MERRON. 127710.; 320 pp.y 
paper, 30 cents ; cloth, .$1.23. 

ii ^^HIS book is issued in paper covers for the first time. The 
volume tells the story of the lives of several young women 
of exemplary character, also that of others of the rev^erse, all of 
whose lives are tossed hither and thither by circumstances, or fate, 
whatever that may be or mean, even as the autumnal leaves are scat- 
tered by the winds. The male characters of the story are alike conspic- 
uous for their vicissitudinous experiences, and it is both interesting 
and educating to watch them closely. The book is suggestive, and 
thought inspiring and the interest of the story is powerful and strong.” 

( 8 ) 


XTbe ©’Connors of BaUinabincb 


By Mrs. Hungerford THE DUCHESS,'* author of 
Molly Bawn,** etc. ■■ \ 2 mo, cloth $i oo ; paper 50^:. 

“ K NOVEL possessing all the characteristics of this prolific and popular 
author .” — Denver News. 

“ In the O* Connors of Ballinahinch the characters are original, well 
sustained, and the literary workmanship is excellent .” — Providence 
Journal. 


Diana. 


The History of a Great Mistake. By MRS. OLIPHANT ^ 
author of ‘ ‘ The Perpehial Curate^ ” ‘ ‘ Whiteladies, * ’ etc. 

l 2 mo, cloth $1.00 ; paper ^oc. 

“ '^HE style is very smooth and finished, the story is interesting, and 
the characters are well drawn .” — Boston Times. 

The Athenceum observes about “ Diana,” “that no reader can fail ta 
appreciate either the charming dexterity which Mrs. Oliphant has. 
displayed in working out the details of her plot, or the living reality oi her 
characters, even where the latter play but the smallest part in the action 
of the story. ” 


Cbe Cucboo in tbe IReet. 


By MRS OLIPHANT, author of ‘ '•Diana, ** “ The Perpetual 
Curate,'* etc. \ 2 mo, cloth, ornamental , $1.00 ; paper 50^. 

“ QELDOM has Mrs. Oliphant portrayed a more charming character than 
Patty, the typical maid of the inn. The author’s insight into the 
by-ways of manners and modes of thought of a certain class, Patty’s, 
toughness and decision, absolute want of reticence (her most appalling 
quality), faithfulness in act, stormy self-abandonment in temper, ambition 
to resemble persons whom it is bitter to her to acknowledge inwardly as 
superior, are all admirable .” — The Athenceum. 


^be ©Ib fIDaib’s Club. 


By /. ZANGWILL, author of ^'The Master,” ** The 
Bachelor's Club," “ The Big Bow Mystery,” etc. With 
illustrations. i 2 mo, cloth, orna 7 nental, $1.25 ; paper 50c. 

author, Israel Zangwill, is recognized as one of the most promising 
young writers of the day — a new Disraeli in the boldness and 
brilliancy of his fancy. The book is profusely and handsomely illustrated 
by F. H. Townsend, and is one of the most delicious literary conceits of 
recent years. The story of The Old Maid's Club, which is indeed 
intended to be a club of young, beautiful, and wealthy women — the cold- 
blooded austerity of its exclusiveness, yte inflexible conditions of member- 
ship, its relentless by-laws, the thrilling adventures which overtake its 
would-be members, its extraordinary ending — the story of these must be 
studied at length in the book itself, which is absolutely unique in its way. 


£yperiences of a OLab? Ibelp. 

By JOHN STRANGE WINTER, author of “ Bootle's 
Baby Regimental Legends," '■^Army Tales," etc. i 2 mo, 
cloth $1.00 ; paper 50c. 

heroine, who tells the story, is admirably depicted, and the 
^ characters throughout are drawn with skill and a keen knowledge 
of the lighter phases of human nature. It is the best and the most 
ambitious of its author’s novels .” — Boston Gazette. 


jfor tbe Sake of tbe Jfamil^. 

By MA Y CROMMELIN, author of Goblin Gold,” “ The 
Freaks of Lady Fortune," etc. i 2 mo, cloth |i.oo; paper 

A SIMPLE, unaffected novel in these days of sensational rubbish is 
refreshing. This tale of English life is of that description ; the plot 
is well constructed, the character-drawing good, and the diction excellent ” 
— Detroit Commercial Advertiser. 


®f tbe Morib, MorIM?. 

By MRS. FORRESTER , author of “ Dearest f etc. \imOy 
clo'h $1,00; paper 5o«:. 

<‘'T'HE subject of Mrs. Forrester’s new novel is hardly original; but 
the book is pleasantly written, and occasionally shows signs of 
delicate observation. The machinations of a society siren, the perils of th« 
honorable young man whom she had jilted on account of his poverty in 
days gone by, but had not forgotten, his final recognition of her worth- 
lessness, and the triumph of a charming young girl, are familiar themes 
enough. They are set forth in this instance with a certain charm and 
freshness. Mrs. Forrester shows to advantage when dealing with simple, 
honest, and upright people, who, however, are not so easily made inter- 
esting as our author contrives to make them interesting.” — The Athefi- 
CEum. 

By the sa>?ie Atcthur, 

Dearest. 

By MRS. FORRESTER^ author of Of the W 0 rld^ 

■ Worldly.’’' i27?io , cloth $i.oo \ paper ^oc. 

A SIMPLE delightful story, which may confidently be commended to 
^ every novel reader. It is written in the sprightly manner and with 
the enchaining qualities characteristic of its popular authoress. 

Dearest is a novel in Mrs. Forrester’s earlier and better manner. The 
story, which is simply and naturally told, narrates the experiences of a 
young girl in subjection to an obnoxious governess and to a mother who 
favors her elder daughters and treats the defiant one harshly. The young 
girl’s cause is taken up by a step-brother whom the mother fears, and a 
new governess comes upon the scene to make interesting complications 
in the family circle and change the situation of the once hapless but now 
triumphant Cinderella. Dearest is one of the most charming novels of 
the day, and is sure to win its way to success. 

Zbc Mrong ^Tbat Ma0 Done. 

By F. W. ROBINSON^ author of “ The Keeper of the 
Keys,” ” Our Erring Brother,” etc, Belmore Series, paper 
5or/ also, \ 2 mo, cloth $i.oo. 

*< 'T'HIS story of an elderly man’s love which turns out happily in the end, 
* is related with the skill of a practiced writer of fiction, and the 
interest is well sustained throughout. The characters are naturally pre- 
sented and the incidents are excidng without being over-sensational.” — 
Boston Gazette, 


TTbe Iberitage of tbe Ikurts. 

From the Norwegian of BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON, 
with introduction by Edmund Gosse. i 2 mo, cloth $1.00; 
paper 50^. 

K POWERFUL as well as a fascinating book. The mere outline of the 
story can give no idea of the subtle psychology, of the descriptive 
force, of the underlying poetry which it contains.” — Pall Mall Gazette. 

The Heritage of the Kurts C2in\i2iYd\yhQ said to be pleasant reading. 
It is a grim story, full of dark shadows that form the setting of strong 
■situations vividly and realistically portrayed. The motive of the story 
scv^ms to be to trace the influence of heredity, and this is done with great 
power and an infinite knowledge of human nature as exemplified in a 
variety of strongly conceived characters under the influence of environ- 
ment. The novel makes large demands upon the reader’s attention, which 
is amply repaid by the author’s marvellous powers of description and 
dramatic skill in the working out of the plot. 

/ibr. ffiaile^^flDartin. 

A Satirical Study. By PERCY WHITE., editor of London 
*'• Public Opinion.’’^ I2tn0y cloth $1.00 ; paper ^oc. 

A CLEVER, amusing, but audacious book. ” — London Times. 

^ “ Bright, fresh, vigorous in action, and told with a wealth of incident 
and humor.” — London Literary World. 

‘ ‘ The book teems with smart sayings and graphic characterizations, 
and cannot fail to make a mark among the cleverest novels of the year.”-'* 
London Daily Telegraph. 

“ This is distinctly a book to be read. It has quite a new flavor in 
fiction. As a study of a snob, it merits a place beside the ever fresh 
pictures of Tnackeray. ” 

^Tbe IRew IRector. 

By STANLEY J. WEYMAN, author of A Gentleman 
of France f etc. i 2 mo, cloth $1.00 ; pape,r 50c. 

A CLERICAL comedy of errors, told with all the liveliness and literary 
^ skill of this clever new writer. 

“ The New Rector is well written, and in every essential feature very 
readable — even charming — in its characterizations and descriptions. The 
portraiture of the young rector is excellent, the difficulties he encounters 
and overcomes are quite interesting ; the gossip is clean, and the love 
scenes are conceived in good taste.” — Church Union. 


fIDr. Mibow. 


A Frivolous Tale. By ANTHONY HOPE, author of 
^ ^ ^ The Prisoner of Zendaf ^ Father Stafford f etc. \ 2 mo, 
cloth $1.00 ; paper 50c. 

“ Widow is, in truth, a brilliant little tale. This com- 

^ mendation is justified by a style at once easy and terse, by the wit 
of the dialogue, and by the good humor of the satire.”— London Times. 

“The climax of the story is full of the charm of the unexpected. 
The characters are neatly sketched and the author’s dialogue is crisp and 
pointed. Altogether, this lively and piquant story is good reading.” — 
Saturday Review. 

“ The manner is always that of comedy, and while the intrigue is 
closely knit, the book is most enjoyable for its delightful characters of 
men and women of the world. From first to last the story is keenly and 
quietly amusing.” — Scotsman. 


Ibow Xifte a Moman. 


By FLORENCE MARRY AT, author of “ There is No 
Death,’’ The Risen Dead,” etc. i 2 mo, cloth $1.00 -, paper 
50r. 

O W Like a Woman is a story without other purpose than the legit- 



imate one in fiction, to delight and amuse the reader. It makes 
most acceptable summer novel, the plot being interesting and the story 
delightfully written. It narrates the history of a charming but wayward 
heiress — ward though only in name— to two old titled guardians, one of 
whom is a source of worry to the young lady. This guardian resorts to 
all sorts of manoeuvres to keep the heroine in check and above all to 
prevent her from marrying, as he fears she will do, beneath her. But the 
young lady has a will of her own, and when she meets her fate, sets every- 
one at defiance in gratifying her own taste and predilection in a lover. 
The lover is an artist, but presumably of no family, and the heroine has 
herself a rooted dislike of a mesalliance, which causes her to play fast 
and loose with her own feelings. The latter, however, happily assert them- 
selves, and in the proper direction, and the story closes delightfully, the 
artist turning out to be of good birth, and the equal socially of the 
heroine he marries. ” 


a Son of Eoau 


By MINNIE GILMORE, author of The Woman Wha 
Stood Between f Pipes from Prairie Land,"' etc. With 
frontispiece portrait of the author. Illu 7 ninated cover, paper 
50^:.; also, 127710 , cloth, orna 7 nental, $1.25. 


“ IWIISS GILMORE’S book conclusively demonstrates both her power 
^ * and her industry .” — Boston Herald. 

“A novel possessing purity of diction and beauty of sentiment, that 
evokes an admiration amounting to reverence .” — Minneapolis Tribune. 

*‘A Son of Esau is a story of daintiness and of power. It is the 
orchestral composition of which the author’s recent exquisite volume of 
poems, ‘ Pipes from Prairie Land, ’ was the overture. ” — New York Tele- 
gra 7 n. 


tTbe Moman Mbo Stoob Between. 


By MINNIE GILMORE, author of ** A Son of Esau,'* 
“ Pipes from Prairie Land." etc. \27710, cloth $1.00 ; paper 
5or. 

NE shoul ot always look for pleasing endings in a story if it is to be 




at all liTelike, In this new work from the pen of Miss Gilmore, the 
final castrophe is not what the average reader might desire it to be. It is, 
nevertheless, the most fitting ending for a story in which the characters 
are drawn from so unusual a sphere of life. 


mor Mife, IRor flbaib. 


By “ THE DUCHESS." i 2 mo, cloth $1.00 ; paper 50^. 


“ K STORY, conventional in its theme, but yet well told and thoroughly 
interesting .” — Boston Advertiser. 

*‘Mrs. Hungerford has not written anything more touching and 
generally satisfactory than this story of a lovely English girl who suffers 
from no fault of her own, nor of her husband. There are the usual pretty 
pictures of English home-life that always attract American readers, and 
there is no intrigue nor society scandal such as disfigure so many novels 
of this class. ” — Pittsburgh Bulletin. 


TTbe llelanb of jTantas?. 

By B'ERGUS HUME^ author of “ The Mystery of a 
Hansom Cabf etc. i 2 mo, ctoth $1.00; paper y:>c. 

K ROUSING adventure-story, not merely however an exciting ro- 
^ mance, but a sufficiently well-studied work, with some evidence of 
poetic feeling. Two-thirds of the story are concerned with natural and 
supernatural marvels, occurring in the cup of a dormant volcano on a 
mythical island in the Cyclades, where a Greek community has been 
established by an adventurous Englishman,” — The Athenceum. 

“ The Island of Fantasy contains plenty of exciting incident, any 
amount of thrilling scenes, and an abundance of adventure. Withal it 
is a love-story, and thus possesses all the elements of romance.” — Pictorial 
World. 


Z\ic (tountess IRabna. 

By W. E, NORRIS y author of '‘^Matrimony." “iVi? New 

Thing f etc. i 2 mo, cloth $1.00 ; paper 50^. 

lyiR. NORRIS has won an assured place among the livii^ masters of 
'* * * fiction, next perhaps to that held by Thackeray, with whdm he is often 
compared. He possesses many of the high literary qualities of the author 
of Vanity Fair, combined with a gentle cynicism and clear insight into 
character. The Countess Radna has all the brilliance, as well as much of the 
interest, which characterizes the author’s early novels, Marcia, Matrimony, 
His Grace, and Mademoiselle de Mersac. It is full of good points, clever 
dialogue, and caustic comment, and is as entertaining and pleasantly 
readable as is the best of his previous stories. As a society novel, 
delineating the matrimonial misadventures of the Hungarian countess and 
her English spouse, with other delightful incidents of modern fashionable 
life, the tale will find many charmed readers. 


H Burne=*3ones Ibeab, 

and Other Sketches. By CLARA SHER WOOD ROLLINS. 
l 2 mo. With photograveur frontispiece. Cloth $1.00. 

•^'T'HE book has distinction, has art, it has humor, it has pimpose.” 
* — Philadelphia Public Ledger. 


trbc Secret of IRarcisse 


A Romance. By EDMUND GOSSE, author of “ Gossip 
in a Library f On Viol and Flute f etc. i2mo, cloth, gilt 
%i.oo. 

“A ROMANCE of the sixteenth century. The time and scene admit 
^ of a high degree of color; and this the author has given his story. 
Its literary excellence is exceptional.” — Boston Courier. 

“ A story not only cleverly imagined but carefully worked out. It 
has mediaeval colorings, dark shadows, and vivid flashes. The Secret 
of Narcisse is a little masterpiece.” — New York Times. 


fCbc penance of Portia James. 

By TASMA, author of “ Uncle Piper of PipePs Hill,'* 
A Sydney Sovereign," etc. Belmore Series, paper jor. ; 
also, i2mo, cloth $i.oo. 

“ 'T'HE new novel by ‘ Tasma ’ is thoroughly readable; it has the freedom. 

^ and breadth of touch that prove the author has seen and known 
the world beyond the sound of the bells of her native town. The theme 
of the novel is serious, but quite within the scope of the material of 
fiction; it is treated with a light and skilful hand, and it fully attains 
effectiveness and interest.” — Boston Literary World. 


fTbe Diane of a IRobob^. 

By GEORGE GROSSMITH and WEED ON GROS~ 

' SMITH. Illustrated, i2mo, cloth $i.oo; paper 50 ^. 

'T'HE humor which enlivens the faithful record of the sayings and doings^ 
^ and no less the emotions, of Mr. Charles Footer is irresistible, and 
the book furnishes some very bright and lively reading for Summer days. 
Mr. Grossmith’s mirth, as all the theatre-going world knows, is very 
contagious, and Weedon Grossmith’s nimble pencil is aptness itself 
in catching his brother’s subtle humor. There is not a dull page in the 
book. 


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NEW COPYRIGHT NOVELS 


A NEW CONTINUOUS STORY BY THE AUTHOR OF “cHIMMIE FADDEN.” 

A Daughter of the Tenements. 

By Edward W. Townsend, author of “Chimmie Fadden, Major 
Max,” and other stories ; “Chimmie Fadden Explains, Major 
Max Expounds,” etc. Profusely illustrated by E. W. Kemble. 
i2mo, cloth, $1.75 ; paper, 50 cents. 

An absorbing story of New York theatrical life, in a new and pathetic vein, with 
little or no dialect. 


A HIGHLY FASCINATING AND ROMANTIC STORY. 

As the Wind Blows. 

A Novel. By Eleanor Merron. i2mo, cloth, $1.25 ; paper, 50 cents. 

A novel of sterling worth that will commend itself to all lovers of wholesome 
fiction. 


A DELIGHTFUL ROMANCE OF NEW ENGLAND. 

Eunice Quince : a New England story of 1800. 

By Dane Conyngham. i2mo, handsome cloth, $1.25 ; paper, 50 cents. 
An old-fashioned, attractive, and finely flavored story. 

A BRIGHT, CLEVER TALE OF NEW YORK SOCIETY. 

The Manhattaners. 

By E. S. Van Zile, of the N. Y. World, author of “A Magnetic Man, 
and other Stories.” i2mo, cloth, $1.00 ; paper, 50 cents. 

An unusually clever romance of New York life, in society and journalistic roles, 
bright, sparkling, and epigrammatic. 

RACY, HUMOROUS SKETCHES OF RURAL LIFE. 

The Old Settler, The Squire, and Little Peleg. 

By Ed. Mott, of the New York Sun. Illustrated. i2mo, cloth, $1.00; 
paper, 50 cents. 

A NEW AND THRILLING STORY IN THE RIDER HAGGARD VEIN. 

The Sheik’s White Slave. 

An account of the unravelling of the Mysteries of the Temple of 
Djaramos, the City of the Desert. By Raymond Raife. Illus- 
trated. i2mo, cloth, $1.25 ; paper, 50 cents. 


AMERICAN PUBLISHERS CORPORATION 

310=318 Sixth Avenue, New York 


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